Weekly Tradition
by Maria Rene
Summary: Artie works diligently, if awkwardly, at getting through Claudia's defenses and building a relationship with the snarky teen.  Spoilers for the Season 1/2 cliffhanger in Ch. 1, future chapters will vary, and will be marked.  Rated T because I'm wary.
1. Cocoa and Marshmallows

A/N: This first chapter was supposed to be a one-shot, but Saul-in-my-head (how scary is that, my muse comes to me as Artie's actor) decided to make it a series. So picture this as sort of a flash-forward, before you see the "One year ago..." subtitle at the beginning of chapter two. While I've never seen absolute proof, I suspect that Artie and Claudia live at the B&B, so that's where they live in my world. This mostly came from watching the way not only the characters, but the actors themselves interact... I can definitely see where Artie gets the "devoted dad" trait from.

Disclaimer, spoilers, and such: The characters aren't mine and this isn't for profit; I'm merely borrowing them for my own personal enjoyment. Any enjoyment had by others is purely coincidental. This chapter is not particularly anywhere within the show's timeline, except that it is set after 2x01 with a significant spoiler for the resolution of Claudia's part in the season 1 cliffhanger. There may be minor spoilers for everything prior to that, but they're going to be things that aren't crucial to any of the episodes' main plots.

Special thanks to my beta reader, Alex Kade for making time in a busy schedule to read through this whole mess, for being ready with ideas when I didn't know which way to go, and for saving my poor readers from death by drowning in commas!

Special thanks also go to D.M., the "Artie" in my own life, for choosing, ten years ago now, to become the family that I grew up without. I love you, big brother!

* * *

Claudia breathed a deep sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. Finally, finally, she was safely ensconced in her lair, her sanctuary... her bedroom. She didn't even want to think about the long, hard day the team had just gone through. She wasn't even sure what had happened to Pete and Myka, only that Artie had torn through the building hollering. By the time she found them, purple goo dripped from everything in a fifteen-foot radius, Myka's now-purple shirt was torn and bloody from what turned out to be a shallow but long gash across her back, and Artie was giving Pete a lecture in the most unsettling low tone Claudia had ever heard, while Artie clutched his left arm, trying not to be obvious about it. All three were pale, as if they'd literally just been through hell. When Claudia had asked what happened, Artie merely shook his head with a shudder, and ordered her to clean up. He sent Myka back to Leena's to have her cut bandaged while he stayed and helped Pete and Claudia with the cleanup. Claudia tried to think of a time when Artie had seemed that angry, or that frightened, and nothing came to mind. Whatever stunt Pete – it had to be Pete, right? – pulled, it must have been way more risky than anything she'd ever thought to do.

She'd kept watch on Artie as they'd cleaned up the mess, concerned at first but relieved when he began to rotate his arm, working the soreness out of the muscles. Probably hurt his shoulder smacking Pete upside the head, Claudia rationalized. She didn't want to know what really happened, if it had scared Artie so badly. All she knew was that today she realized, in a way she hadn't before, that danger didn't just lurk outside the warehouse; it was inside, as well. Claudia drew another deep, cleansing breath as she leaned against the door, peering around her bedroom. Everybody else was still downstairs washing the dinner dishes, probably having all kinds of fun, but as scared as she'd been when she saw the mess today, she just couldn't take any more togetherness. She flung herself onto her bed, leaning over to yank Ted, her stuffed bear, out from its place, hidden between the bed and nightstand. What would happen if one day, her whole family just... didn't come home? Maybe it would be better to detach now, before that could happen. At least then it wouldn't hurt when the inevitable abandonment came later, right? Claudia gazed into the ancient brown bear's eyes.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come back, Ted. What if the only person I can trust really is myself?" she asked the bear, feeling the tears sting her eyes at the thought. She knew a good cry was coming, but it hadn't quite arrived, so she simply stared at her closet. Artie's own closet was just the other side of hers... she'd learned not to rant to herself while getting dressed in there, because he could hear her surprisingly well through the wall. Behind her, she didn't have to look to see the door leading to the bathroom she and Myka shared, Brady Bunch-style. She'd always wondered how six kids could function in one bathroom... it was hard enough just sharing with Myka, even with her being gone so much. Though, she thought, it wouldn't be nearly so hard if Myka went off to retrieve an artifact one day, and came back dead. Claudia burst into tears at the thought. Yep, there it was, all the fear and uncertainty and misery that had been lurking beneath the surface, right out in the open, in front of God and everybody... well, God and Ted anyway. Thank goodness for small favors, she thought, just before she realized she was hearing the steady thud of somebody climbing the stairs.

Crap. Of course somebody was coming up now... probably to check on her, she realized, swiping at her cheeks and holding her breath, anything to turn off the waterworks. As an added security measure, she grabbed the corner of her bedspread and rolled over, pulling it over herself like a sleeping bag. The light was still on, but maybe she could pretend to sleep. She fought to even out her breathing as she heard the door slowly creak open, just a little, just enough for someone to look in on her.

"I haven't forgotten it's Friday night," Artie said, causing her to jump slightly. Crap. Friday night, also known as "Claudia-night" in Artie's weird little world. Claudia sighed quietly as Artie continued. "I need to run a shower, see if I can get the rest of this neutralizer off before it starts to itch. But I expect to see you in my room, in half an hour."

"Okay," Claudia answered, pressing her face toward her bear, hoping that the muffled sound would cover over the unsteady tone.

"And don't think I don't know you've been crying, Claudia," Artie added, as he closed the door behind himself. Crap, crap. He was like Mrs. Frederic, only more annoying. Not that Claudia would ever let on that she actually liked Artie's fatherly devotion. Yeah, some of his nurturing gestures were a little... unique. The bedazzler event came to mind, for example. But the Friday evening Claudia-night tradition... everyone knew how much she loved that one, no matter how hard she tried to maintain a cool, distant exterior.

Claudia lay still for nearly twenty minutes, breathing deeply and pulling herself together emotionally before beginning her own Friday night ritual. With an efficiency borne of habit, she got up at the last possible minute, pulled on her purple pajamas, then washed her face. She grabbed her nail file and a polish color, dropping them into the pocket of her pajama pants. Finished getting ready, she opened her door and peered down the hall, being sure Artie's door was open and waiting for her. She ducked back into her own room to grab her pillow and Ted, before peering both ways down the hall again. Nobody knew about Ted's existence; Claudia had an elaborate ritual of moving him around the room, making sure to tuck him away in the dresser on cleaning day and the bookcase on laundry day. She'd planned on keeping him a secret forever, but tonight, she was feeling just a tad clingy. Besides, she rationalized, Artie had given the bear to her years ago. Surely he assumed she had him tucked away somewhere.

Seeing the coast clear, Claudia clutched her pillow against her chest, concealing the bear as she closed her bedroom door behind her and slunk down the hall. She quickly glanced around Artie's bedroom, making sure nobody else was there, before she practically leaped into the room and swung the door shut all in the same motion. Artie's bathroom door was still closed.

"Okay, I'm here," Claudia called out, alerting Artie to her presence as she threw her pillow onto "her" side of the bed and crawled under the covers, resting her back against the darkly-stained wood headboard.

"Almost done," came the muffled reply. The cookies and hot cocoa were already sitting on the nightstand, waiting for Claudia-night to begin. She wondered if he'd remembered the little marshmallows this week... not that they were important, of course. But it was always anybody's guess if he'd remember, or if they'd get lost in the chaos of his mind. She thought to lean over and peek, but just then, the bathroom door swung open and Artie emerged, his weary, gentle smile already working its magic on her injured heart. Artie climbed up on the bed and sat in his place, covers pulled over his legs to ward off the autumn chill. One arm snaked around her shoulders as the other hand pushed a cocoa mug into her grasp. He had remembered the marshmallows, she noticed with a smile, allowing herself to relax just a little bit.

"So how is Claudia doing this week?" Artie asked, taking his own cocoa and sipping gingerly at it, testing the temperature. Claudia shrugged in response to the question.

"Scary day," she said. Artie nodded. "I don't even know what happened, and it scares the crap out of me." She glanced at him, wondering if he would talk about whatever had happened at the warehouse. Artie shook his head.

"I don't even want to think about it long enough to talk... and I certainly don't want you to be stuck with that nightmare. You've been through enough in life." Most days, Claudia would take offense to that kind of answer, but today... today she really did just want to be protected from all that is scary in the world.

"We almost lost Myka today, didn't we?" she asked. Artie sighed and nodded, and Claudia's tears came back full force, catching them both by surprise. Artie quickly set his mug down and took hers from her, putting it back in its place on the nightstand before his arms wrapped fully around Claudia. Most of their Friday nights were spent trading sarcastic remarks as they rehashed the prior week. The number of times Claudia had admitted to the pain and fear he knew she lived with every day, Artie could count those on one hand, and still have three fingers left. Two fingers left, now, he mused as the young woman burrowed face-first against him, seeking refuge from the storm stirring in her heart. Artie instinctively held her close with one arm, the other hand reaching up to brush her hair away from her face as he rocked gently.

"I'm right here," he said softly near her ear. "I don't have any illusions of immortality, but I'm doing whatever it takes, every day, to be right here for you, for as long as possible. I even eat salads now... without a fight. Leena probably thinks I'm possessed, or something." Claudia chuckled at that, between sniffles. She knew how much Artie hated lettuce, but a couple weeks after her arrival, right around the time she'd first gathered up her nerve and expressed her unending fear of abandonment, he'd begun to choke them down, making the most hysterically funny faces as he did. He'd taken to walking more, around the warehouse, too. And Claudia knew he must have dropped a few pounds, since Leena had traded all of his pants for new ones a few months ago. Claudia hadn't said anything, didn't want to make a big deal of it, but it completely shocked her that Artie would go to that kind of trouble, just for her sake. Nobody had ever done anything like that for her... not since Joshua had looked after her when she was little. And, she supposed, her parents... Joshua must have learned self-sacrifice somewhere, after all. Claudia wasn't even sure she remembered her parents, most days. And Joshua's sacrifice, while she would never forget it, was years ago. But Artie's... this was real, right now, and something about that touched her, heart and soul. A box of tissues suddenly appeared by Claudia's arm. She drew one hand back and took a few tissues, wondering when she'd wrapped her arms around Artie.

"I always assumed if you were all here, or at the warehouse, that at least here you were safe," Claudia explained, sniffling between syllables. Artie hummed in reply, still rocking gently. "I— I never really thought that... that it might not... you know." Artie nodded.

"Life is like that, sweetie," he said softly. "People die, and it's, it's not fair... the world would be better off without some people and then they go and live to be 90, while somebody truly amazing only gets 20, 30 years. It's not... it can happen any time, to anyone, and I don't say that to frighten you, but it's reality. The only way to conquer our fear of it is to face it, accept it, and learn to live within it. Why do you think I insist on this Claudia-night tradition... I already foolishly lost one chance to know you, and I missed out on getting to be the person who guided you through childhood to become this amazing young woman. I don't... my life is better for having known you, and I want to be sure I make use of that gift while I have it. This is how you live with the uncertainty, Claudia, sweetheart. You make time to sit and talk, you treasure your family, even when they drive you nuts. I grumble and I complain, but I, I enjoy watching you work every day, I love seeing what you're going to come up with next. You are the most exasperating... but I love you, Claudia. And on days like today, when things damn near do go to hell in a handbasket, I wonder if I've... did you even know that?" Artie finally fell quiet, peering into Claudia's eyes for a moment before he drew her back into his hug, realizing that eye contact was too intense for the already-vulnerable girl.

"Yeah, Artie," Claudia replied, suppressing a chuckle. "Kind of figured that one out when you came to Switzerland to get me, even though it kinda looked like I sold you out, pulled a Benedict Arnold, all that."

"You know, the interesting truth about Benedict Arnold-" Artie began, but stopped when a small hand appeared in his field of vision.

"Dude, heartwarming moment here. Save the history lesson for later." Artie chuckled, then breathed a thoughtful sigh.

"You wouldn't... I would have... even that wouldn't... wouldn't have made me stop loving you," he said, stuttering through the words more because he wondered if they were the right ones, than because he was thinking of too many things at once. He was rewarded with Claudia's arms snaking around his shoulders in a childlike hug. "Besides," he continued, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, "if you had joined forces with MacPherson, you wouldn't have waved at the security cameras; that's not your style. You would have done it in such a big, bold way that there'd be no question as to who was responsible, but it wouldn't have been that simple." Claudia snickered at that as she sat back, slapping at Artie's arm playfully before she pointed towards her mug. In response, Artie touched the mug, then grumbled to himself.

"Our cocoa's gone cold... let me just..." he said, his words degenerating into mumbling to himself as he took what looked like a steel swizzle stick out of his nightstand drawer. Claudia watched in fascination as each drink began producing steam as he stirred gently.

"What was that?" she asked, an expression of awe and reverence for both Artie, and for whatever tool he'd used.

"No, no, no history lessons, remember? Heartwarming moment here."

"Artie!" Claudia whined, taking the warm mug he offered her before reaching over him to grab a cookie. "Ooh, frosted snickerdoodles!" She began licking the frosting and cinnamon-sugar off her cookie, her unanswered question forgotten.

"Claudia, why... you're getting crumbs..." Artie fumbled for a napkin as he fumbled for words, not that a napkin was going to do much to stop the crumbs that were already raining down on Claudia's lap and into his bedsheets.

"Relax, old man, I'll brush them off before I leave."

"Why must you lick the topping off the cookie before you eat it, anyway?" Claudia paused mid-lick, then shrugged in response.

"Probably the same reason I separate the mixed vegetables before I eat them." With that, she devoured her cookie in two bites, then set her half-finished cocoa on her nightstand.

"Yeah, why do you do that? It all ends up in the same place anyway," Artie pointed out.

"I don't know, Artie, why do you put hot sauce on your egg but you freak if it gets on the biscuit?" Claudia raised one eyebrow pointedly, getting a resigned chuckle out of Artie in response. "So what's up in Artie's world?" she asked, pulling her manicure supplies out of her pocket and setting to work on filing her nails. "You seemed kind of pensive at dinner." Artie hummed in response.

"Scary day, like you said... worried about H.G. Wells..."

"Yeah, not buying it," Claudia said, never looking up from her nails.

"Didn't think you would. I don't... I've worked at the warehouse for a lot of years, and this is the first time I've felt like I'm part of a family, instead of just an agent doing a job that consumes your whole life. It's... hey, isn't that the bear I gave you just before-?" Artie tugged on the ear that had begun to peek up above the bedspread, pulling Ted free and holding him up to see.

"Just before Joshua disappeared, yeah."

"I can't believe you kept it all these years."

"Ted's one of the few things I managed not to lose in all the chaos. I still can't sleep without him."

"What else did you manage not to lose?" Artie asked, despite the sneaking suspicion that he might be opening an overly-emotional can of worms. Claudia, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaware of his uncertainty, scrutinizing her nails carefully before setting down the file and picking up the nail polish.

"Myself," she answered, bobbing her head slowly in a gesture that Artie recognized as deep thought. "And you."

"What about Joshua?" Claudia shrugged in response.

"I'm glad he's not dead, if that's what you mean. But it's different. He still expects a little girl. I don't know, Artie, it's like the Joshua I knew is gone, somehow... or the me he knew, maybe." She shook her head in confusion at her own feelings, and Artie leaned back to avoid the hair flinging toward his face.

"I think I still expect a little girl sometimes, too," Artie said softly, as if he were confessing his deepest sin. "But you're not; you've grown into this, this capable young lady, and... I should treat you more like an adult." Artie frowned in confusion when his companion merely shrugged noncommittally, as if his words bothered her. "What, what's wrong?"

"What? No. Nothing, nothing's wrong."

"Claudia..." Artie said warningly, waiting somewhat patiently for her to answer. "Take a chance, trust me," he added when her silence persisted.

"It's just that... I spent a lot of years just trying to survive, and that's not nearly as easy as it sounds, believe me. I kind of... I'm only nineteen and I'm already burnt-out on being a grown-up. Sometimes I think maybe I need that, to let somebody else be overprotective, and take care of things."

"And..?" Artie prompted, sensing there were just a few more words longing to escape.

"And... I kind of like it. Even when I'm yelling and complaining and totally not listening. I love you, too, you know." Artie blinked, twice, before he grabbed Claudia in a bearhug, pressing a kiss to her temple. Claudia squealed in response "Hey man, nail polish, way worse than cookie crumbs!" Artie chuckled as he turned loose, allowing Claudia to settle back into her usual Friday night position, nestled sort of between Artie and her pillow, with his arm protectively around her. "Not that I don't like..." Claudia said, falling quiet as the fear of vulnerability again got the best of her.

"I already know you need a little time to be the kid in the family and develop some roots, before you can handle being a grown-up full-time," Artie said quietly. He tilted his head towards hers, as if he were about to tell her a big secret. "And I know you like my hugs, too." He wondered for an instant if it was just a little too much open honesty, but shelved that thought when he felt the tension leave his young companion's muscles. The pair sat quietly for a few minutes, simply soaking up one another's presence, and allowing themselves time to process the depth of trust they'd just shared.

"So," Claudia began when she felt more calm and collected, as she worked on her second coat of polish. "Were you there Tuesday morning when I was cataloging stuff, and Pete grabbed Julia Child's candlesticks off the desk?" Claudia giggled at the memory, and Artie's eyes widened as he realized what must have happened.

"No, I must have missed that... did you get it fixed? What happened?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I turned away because the auto-vac was freaking out again, and before I could stop him..." Claudia dissolved into giggles again, leaning more fully into Artie's fatherly embrace. In spite of his belated concern for everyone's safety, her laughter was just a touch infectious, and Artie found himself chuckling also.

"Did he pick them both up?" Artie asked, getting a nod out of her in response. "Oh no... not at the same time?" Claudia's giggles only intensified as she nodded again.

"At first, you know, he's just hopping around the room talking like Julia Child, something about butter, but then he grabbed that sword on the wall, and he told Myka she'd turned into an onion and he was going to sautee her."

"But you got it fixed?" Artie asserted, his chuckles not fully masking his concern.

"Well you may have noticed Pete didn't try to dice anybody up at dinner," Claudia pointed out. "We women can handle ourselves, you know. He put the candlesticks down when he went for the sword, and I was just cataloging the whole shipment. I know how to counteract it. Except..."

"What? Except what?" Artie asked, his concern completely overtaking amusement at this point. "You got the batter, right?"

"Well it would have taken too long, and Myka wouldn't let me throw beer batter on a recovering alcoholic anyway, for some crazy reason, so..."

"What did you use?" Artie asked, peering suspiciously at his young friend.

"Well... I remembered the potato salad upstairs," She explained, even as he began grumbling and complaining. "It was really nasty, Artie, it was starting to ferment, and – "

"It's supposed to do that! The recipe is called 'fermented sauerkraut potato salad' for a reason! You threw my potato salad on Pete? That takes almost a month to – it better have worked!" Artie snapped, his voice escalating to match his frustration level before he put both hands up in a gesture of acquiescence. "Did it work?" he asked, much quieter and calmer now. Claudia nodded.

"Yeah, except then he was standing in the middle of the office with fermented potato salad all over the place, and we had to clean that up. But other than that, it was fine. Tomorrow, I'll see if the security camera caught it. You've got to see it for yourself."

"Well, at least he didn't put candles in and light them," Artie said, chuckling again at the new thought.

"Oh crap, that would have been so much worse... or better."

"If you have a morbid sense of humor," Artie retorted, getting only an expression of "duh" from Claudia in response. Yeah, he realized, it would be just a tad funny, as long as nobody got too badly hurt in the process. That was one of the things Claudia had introduced into his life, a sense of humor, however warped. He sat quietly for the last little bit of their time together before bedtime, enjoying the opportunity to simply be with his surrogate daughter.

"You about ready for bed?" Artie asked after a long stretch of quiet togetherness. Claudia yawned and nodded. "You think you're going to have nightmares tonight?"

"No, I'm good," Claudia answered. She knew Artie didn't quite believe her because she was so good at pretending to be okay when she wasn't, but she really did feel better after a couple hours spent curled up on his bed.

"You sure, because... well, if you do get frightened, you know you can come in and pull out your bed anytime, right?" he asked, pointing across the room at the armchair that folded out into a Claudia-sized bed.

"Goodnight," Claudia said, rolling her eyes as she slipped out of his bed and padded toward the door.

"Goodnight, Claudia," he replied. His smile faded into curiosity when she paused, hand on the doorknob, and then impulsively doubled back for one more childlike hug before bed. Artie chuckled gently, not terribly surprised that she needed just a little more for the road, so to speak, after the hellish day. "I love you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, just above her ear.

He was rewarded with a very small "Love you too, Artie," from his young companion right before she picked up her bear, and made her way to her own bedroom. Artie slipped out of bed to set the cookie tray on his desk, safely out of reach until he could carry it downstairs in the morning. He pondered Claudia's recent improvement in bonding and trust, after the whole fiasco with MacPherson... it had been such a miserable thing to live through, to watch her cope with, but tonight he realized that the growth he was seeing, had been worth it. Artie turned off the light and found his way back to bed in the pitch black of night, snuggling into the blankets to ward off the autumn chill. His eyes drifted shut, then popped back open suddenly, as he sat back up, brushing more crumbs out of the bed, smiling in spite of his annoyance. He'd already missed the opportunity to have a normal family. Getting this second chance to play daddy with Claudia... yeah, that's worth having to put up with crumbs in the bed, he thought just before drifting to sleep.


	2. The Tradition Begins

Disclaimer, spoilers, and such: Not mine, not doing this for profit. Major spoilers for the Artie/Claudia plot in Regrets (1x10 I believe, but have no ability to double-check the numbering). No spoilers for the case-related plot in that episode. Brief spoiler for the episode before, Duped, also. Apologies to anybody who found that one the hard way, before I remembered it was in there.

Special thanks to my beta-reader, Alex Kade, for your time, your unending dedication to the powerfully emotional story I seek to spin, and your consistent determination to keep me from doing anything too stupid in the process!

A/N: This chapter is a flashback, of sorts... or rather, my first chapter was a flash-forward. So we were around 2x02 or so, and now we've gone back to the latter part of season one, beginning with the night that the "Claudia-night" tradition began, and we'll be working forward from there. It'll be fun, really.

Also, I feel like I made some big leaps of logic in this story, in handling the characters' living arrangements, so I wanted to just describe the thought process real quick. I guessed based on the pilot, when Artie goes to flop on a hammock upstairs in the office, that he might camp out there overnight, perhaps even live there full-time. It makes sense that he would not really want to live at the B&B after losing his partner, because Artie, for all his antisocial tendencies, is very sensitive and loving. But when Claudia comes into the picture, we start seeing him a lot more frequently in the B&B, walking in and heading upstairs as if he lives there, stuff like that. Granted, Artie pretty much goes anywhere as if he owns the place, but... it just has that "home" feeling somehow, so there you have my rationale, more or less, for why I've written him moving from the warehouse office loft to the B&B. The idea that he did it to keep tabs on the kid is more or less mine, but given his temperament, it seems most likely.

* * *

Claudia whined as she flipped the chalkboard over and began writing. Again. She knew he was going to get bent out of shape over her little magnetized-to-the-ceiling fiasco, but geez. Writing lines, seriously? After Artie had saved her from Volta's lab coat, after the rush of fear and exhilaration had worn off, Artie had decided her punishment was that she was grounded for two days. Claudia had thought she was getting off easy until he'd continued, explaining that she'd spend those two days, from the morning to bedtime, at his side. He'd already made her spend the rest of the afternoon sitting right next to him, doing paperwork that turned out to be even more mind-numbing than inventory, something she hadn't even believed possible until now. He'd even thwarted the old "bathroom break" ruse, catching her by the wrist as she tried to slip away for just a few moments' peace. All that had accomplished was that he made her write "I will not disobey Artie" about a million times, while he relieved his anger by working on his piano composition.

It was beautiful, really, the piece he was playing. Even repeated over and over, the same few lines for more than an hour, the haunting melody enchanted her. Maybe she'd tell him that sometime when she wasn't busy being furious at him. After so many years taking care of herself, by herself, he thought he had any business, any right, to punish her like an errant child? Though the more she thought about it, the more it did seem kind of fitting... how many times, after all, had he warned her that the artifacts are warehoused because they're dangerous? Claudia paused in her writing to stand up straight, whimpering as her muscles complained, causing Artie to stop playing and look up at her. She'd filled the board for a fifth time... or sixth, maybe. He'd lost count. She was trying to hide it but Artie could see the beginnings of pain on her face, overwriting her expression of scorn. It was probably time to show a little mercy, he thought grudgingly. Besides, it was Friday night. He didn't want to be late for his Friday night tradition of curling up with some cookies, a cocoa, and a good book... even if tonight's reading session did get disturbed by petulant teenage sighs every few minutes.

Putting his things away, Artie finally, finally released Claudia from the chalkboard, instructing her to help him shut down the office for the evening. She excitedly accepted the brief reprieve from being within Artie's line of sight all afternoon. Of course the evening was not quite over, but Artie always went to bed early on Friday nights, usually not long after dinner. She'd be stuck at his side tomorrow still, but she only had to endure another hour or so and then she'd be free for the evening!

Or so she assumed. After dinner, the pair sat in the living room for a little while, to socialize with the rest of the team, but Artie soon got up, took the tray of cocoa and cookies that Leena had prepared, said goodnight... and asked that Claudia accompany him upstairs, in that tone that meant it wasn't a request. He'd expected a battle of wills, but instead she had scrambled to her feet and promptly followed. Oh she'd whined the whole way, Artie observed with wry amusement, but she had obeyed. Maybe his lesson was being absorbed. At the top of the stairs, he gave her ten minutes to put pajamas on, and find a book, or something quiet to busy herself with, before he expected her to be in his bedroom. Claudia agreed without another complaint, and Artie could tell she was feeling just slightly intimidated. She'd never set foot in Artie's bedroom before... she wasn't sure anybody had, actually. Trying to shrug off the strangeness, she quickly changed clothes, before shoving a book into one pocket of her pajama pants, and her nail polish and manicure kit into the other. Then, with absolutely no idea what to expect, she padded quietly to Artie's door and knocked gently on it.

"Come in," came the muffled reply. Claudia opened the door to find Artie sitting up in bed, legs under the covers, reading. She raised an eyebrow in curiosity, trying to cover it over as disdain. "Leena made cocoa for you, and extra cookies. You can sit wherever you like, and read or do whatever else you brought, for the next two hours." Claudia took her mug, and a single cookie, before curling up in the armchair in the corner of the room. So this is what he did when he went to bed early on Fridays, the freakin' killjoy. Artie watched her settle for a moment before returning to his book.

Claudia took her own book out of her pocket and settled in to read. It was one of her favourites, a collection of Poe's short stories, but she found it hard to get into tonight. Something about being forced to sit with Artie, like he couldn't trust her if he couldn't see what she was up to, nagged at her; it offended her sense of defiant independence. But more than that, she realized suddenly after several minutes of stewing, it made her feel remorseful... even a little sad. As she pondered that, realization hit her with sickening force. She wanted him to be proud of her, impressed by her, and trusting of her. She hadn't wanted that of anybody, since... was Joshua really the only other person whose approval she'd sought? Probably... she'd vowed never to let anybody get that close to her again after the last remnant of her family had vanished. And yet, somehow Artie had fought his way into her well-guarded heart, and she had come to care deeply what he thought of her. She wanted what most teens wanted, to be seen as a grown-up by the trusted adult in her life... by the only father-type person she'd ever truly known. Not that you'd guess that from her behaviour today, she realized, feeling more disappointed with herself by the second. After a few minutes, she put the book down, squirming uncomfortably. Her mind wasn't allowing her to read it anyway.

"All right if I do my nails?" she asked, more to be polite than because she actually cared about... no, she did care about his opinion, she told herself, grudgingly. Artie glanced up from his book and nodded. Claudia took out the tools and began the process of filing her nails just so, glancing toward Artie from time to time, pausing to think deeply. This wasn't much of a distraction either, but at least she had something to fidget with, as she pondered. She'd always had a nagging feeling that she'd missed an important part of growing and maturing, without a guiding influence in her life, but did she seriously want Artie to take charge of her as a father would? Could he really be worthy of her trust? Could anybody be trusted after all she'd been through in her short life? Was she even okay with anybody in that role? The questions swirled around her heart, forcing her to put down her nail file and rest her face in her hands before she drowned in the flood of uncertainty and fear.

"What?" Artie asked with a sigh, folding down the corner of the page and turning his attention to his young companion. Claudia took a deep, unsteady breath, setting aside the questions that she wasn't ready to ask herself, wasn't ready to accept the answers to. Looking up to meet his gaze, she went back to the one thing she was sure of, that Artie had trusted her today, and she had let him down.

"I'm... really, really sorry about the whole magnetic labcoat... thing." Artie almost rolled his eyes; she'd apologized probably a dozen times since the fiasco this afternoon, more than half of them after he'd decided to ground her. But something about her tone struck him as sincere, on a whole new level. Something was different this time, he realized as he waited patiently for the words he could see forming in her mind. "I know I'm impulsive and a little random, but I'm also responsible and dedicated, and I want to be treated like a responsible adult... and then I went and acted like a twelve-year-old." Artie nodded his agreement.

"Yes, you did." Claudia cringed at Artie's blunt agreement. It hurt, coming from him, even though she deserved it... and Claudia had a feeling that the singular answer to all her questions lay in her reaction to his agreement. She shoved that aside; tonight wasn't the night to add even more emotional weirdness to the mess in her brain.

"I wasn't pissed, though, when I found you," Artie continued. "I was scared half out of my mind and trying not to... trying not to let that frighten you any more than you already were."

"You sure sounded pissed when you said that you should label the coat with 'only use in case of stupid'," Claudia muttered. The wounded tone of her voice hadn't escaped Artie's attention, she noticed with just a touch of shock. Usually, Artie was... just a bit aloof and distracted, to put it kindly. But here in his bedroom, tonight, he was far more focused and attuned to the less-obvious, to the nonverbal cues she was giving, the ones that usually sailed so far over his head that he didn't even realize he was missing something. Artie was actually focused entirely on her, Claudia realized suddenly.

"I'm sorry," Artie said softly. "We all have our bad moments, you just... Claudia, I... I didn't mean it. I was worried, and too busy trying to figure out how to get you down without hurting your body, to realize that I was hurting your heart."

"Yeah. And then you make me write lines until my back hurts.. it still hurts, by the way," Claudia spat, hoping for just a little remorse from her mentor. This was getting interesting... she knew he had this kind of touchy-feely stuff in there somewhere, but it came to the surface so rarely. Artie, however, chuckled instead of apologizing.

"It's temporary, you'll live. Punishment isn't supposed to be pleasant."

"Mission accomplished, dude," the teen groused, reaching around to rub her own back. "Can we skip tomorrow?"

"Hah, no," Artie shot back without even considering it. "Count yourself lucky that you have me, and not my father, who never would have bought into this pansy 'grounded' stuff. If you'd pulled a stunt like that with him..." Artie's words faded into a sheepish expression.

Claudia's face lit up with a curious, mischievous smile. "Oh no, old man, you can't stop there!"

"Claudia..." he warned. She burst into laughter in response.

"Let me guess, he was the 'go cut your own switch' sort of dad that so many grown-ups always went on about, as if that made getting grounded or... or anything else, somehow humane and merciful." Artie chuckled at Claudia's all-too-accurate words, bringing another giggle from the young woman. "At least that would be over in like, five minutes," she muttered, which only got another laugh out of an increasingly flustered Artie.

"Claudia, you scared the hell out of me. You can't possibly think you'd get off that easy, after that." Artie had meant it as just another barb in their spirited conversation, but as Claudia's expression shifted back toward melancholy, he knew their conversation had just shifted tracks.

"I'm really, really sorry I scared you... I should have... trusting others to take care of things for me, isn't exactly in my nature," she explained. "No wonder you don't trust me." Artie peered into her eyes. Even from across the room, he could see today's events tearing her self-confidence to shreds. He'd apparently chosen her punishment well; she clearly understood the errors she'd made today. But even in the best of circumstances he knew it would rock her sense of self, to be taken so firmly in hand. He glanced back at his book, realizing that he probably wasn't going to read any more tonight, not now that he'd managed to make some progress.

"Claudia, your skills and your intellect amaze me. I keep you on a short leash because you're young, impulsive, you love to create and invent, and that's great but many times you don't think through all the consequences first. I treat you like a child... young teen really... because while I see amazing potential, you still are very childlike. You still need me to second-guess you, to show you how to do this stuff for yourself, how to be sure of your choices before you act, when they can still be changed. You blew me away with the way you handled Myka being trapped in Alice's mirror. I distrusted the mirror because I understand the danger, and somebody had to protect you from— but I never distrusted you, Claudia, not for one moment. I needed time to think it through, and I needed you to figure out how to prove your theory and you did that, however impatiently. You always had my affection and acceptance, but you definitely earned my respect and trust that day. And then you turn around and play with something that could easily kill you. You are an asset to the warehouse, and to me, and I have a great deal of faith in your ability... in you. But not if I have to worry about what you're going to get into when I'm not there to steer you away from danger." Artie finally fell silent when he realized tears were slipping down Claudia's cheeks.

"You have faith in me?" she asked, stunned. Artie heaved a sigh. He'd expected her to be hurt or angry... not to have such a low opinion of herself that being told he had faith in her would make her cry. Artie threw the blanket back, not quite believing what he was doing... this felt so completely out of character, and yet so comfortable.

"Come sit with me." Claudia did as she was told, bringing her things along with. Once she was settled against the pillows with the blanket keeping the evening chill away, he put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. "Claudia Donovan, you are going to be an amazing agent someday. But you need to trust me to guide you and teach you, so you don't get hurt in the meantime." Well, that answered the one question whose answer couldn't be found within her own broken heart. It wasn't Artie's style to invest his time or his heart without very serious thought about trust issues of his own. Clearly, he genuinely wanted to be that guiding influence in her life. In that moment of realization, she finally knew where she stood with Artie, and what he needed to hear from her... or maybe what _she_ needed to hear from herself.

"I do trust you," Claudia said timidly, causing Artie to shoot her an incredulous look. "No, Artie, seriously... this is... this is really hard for me. I've taken care of myself for years, and I'm really good at it. I didn't trust you at first, even when I needed you to help me save Joshua. And then... you're just one more person who's abandoned me. Why should I trust you this time, you know? But today... oh man, you have no idea how hard this is. When I realized I was in trouble, Artie, all I wanted was for you to come rescue me, even though... even though I was so afraid of your reaction when you found out what I'd done. And you came, and got all stressed out, and worked so hard, not saving the whole freaking world... it was all for me, just me. This really kind of scares the hell out of me... a lot. But Artie, you're the only person I trust to save me from myself." Claudia fell silent, realizing with sudden fear just how far into her protective walls she had allowed Artie to get. "If you ever tell anybody how big a wimp I really am, I'll have to beat you with a stick," she spat, suddenly feeling very threatened by her moment of unguarded honesty. Artie chuckled and squeezed her gently.

"As long as you don't let on that I might actually be less cranky than Pete and Myka think," he answered. Claudia nodded vigorously in agreement. This would be their little secret. "I'm sorry I... I made so many mistakes when you were little. I regret leaving you... I thought I was doing the right thing. Maybe I was doing the right thing at the time, but I'm sorry, Claudia. If I'd known what would come of it, I would have taken you with me after Joshua disappeared."

"It's okay, you know," she replied, as if he'd just apologized for burning the toast.

"Well, it is now that you've found your way back to where you belong," Artie mused aloud. "Even if it was for the best, I'm still sorry I hurt you." Claudia simply nodded, absorbing the words that she knew were deeply honest... Artie never looked that sheepish unless he was giving you some deep emotional truth. The two sat quietly for several minutes before Claudia broke the silence again.

"Why did you move here?" Artie glanced at her, not entirely certain what she'd meant. "You used to live upstairs, in the office, at the warehouse... after Joshua left for Switzerland, you moved here. Leena says you haven't lived here since you were a field agent." Artie nodded, thinking about the things that had driven him to live in the storage room above his office, and the things that had called him back to his former home.

"Before we brought Joshua back, before I even believed he was still alive, I figured you were... well you were trying to save your brother for his sake, but you also had self-serving motives; you needed your protective big brother. Once we got him back, I knew that no matter what happened, he wasn't going to protect and provide like he did when you were little. Too much had changed. Somebody else had to take that role in your life."

"You moved back for me?" Claudia asked, her tone an odd cross between awe and disbelief.

"Well... and Leena's cookies are even more amazing when they're fresh out of the oven," Artie answered as he offered her a cookie, sensing that she needed him to break up the seriousness just a bit.

"Leena's cookies rock," Claudia agreed.

"You know," Artie began, "Leena makes fresh cookies every Friday night for me, and she always makes more than I should be eating. Maybe... maybe you can come help me eat them?" Claudia met Artie's gaze, seeing in him the same uncertainty that she felt as she mulled over the invitation. She understood, of course, that he was asking her to spend time with him. He was inviting her to connect in a way that they couldn't when they were working, when their emotional guard was on high, when others were around, or could walk in at any moment. She could barely breathe for a moment, as "yes" and "no" waged war right there in her throat, before she finally grabbed hold of her habit of distrust, and shoved it back into the dark corner from which it came. Fear or no fear, she knew exactly what she needed, and if she ever wanted Artie to see her as a grown-up, then it was time to stop thwarting her own ability to get her needs met just because she'd had a few crappy years.

"Okay, but there had better be cocoa," she answered. Artie nodded his agreement. "With the little marshmallows." Artie smiled gently, picking up on her veiled, perhaps even subconscious, demand for their time together to be just a little indulgent, to be comfort food for her bruised soul.

"Whipped cream?" he asked, wondering if she herself realized the metaphor she'd created.

"Yeah, but not all the time. I like a little snark with my heartwarming." Artie snickered. Yeah, she knew what she was communicating, all right. One handy thing about the both of them being not very good at dealing with people was that they tended to understand one another very well, Artie mused.

A few moments later, their time together was interrupted by a knock at the door. Pete stuck his head in.

"Hey, Artie, I know Claudia's... you know," he began, politely avoiding the topic of her punishment. "But Leena and I are going into town to get ice cream... can we bring some back?" Artie shot Pete a mock-withering look as he considered his answer. The purpose of the punishment had been accomplished, he reasoned. He intended to carry it out tomorrow, of course... no sense undermining this new-found trust by suddenly becoming undependable, even in a pleasant way. Besides, he sensed that she needed the time tomorrow, for this newly-growing trust to take root. But he could be a little flexible as well... mercy has its place, after all.

"Get dressed, go with them," he said to Claudia after a moment. She lit up like the Studio 54 disco ball, at the pronouncement. A drive into town for ice cream wasn't all that exciting, but it sounded wonderful after the fear, anger, and raw emotion of the day. "It's just time off for good behaviour; you're still grounded tomorrow!" Artie snapped, getting a peeved glare from his young companion as she untangled from the bedding and made her way towards her room. But before she closed Artie's bedroom door, she paused just long enough to turn back and throw him a small smile. Yes, Artie thought to himself, it had been an immensely frustrating afternoon supervising the bratty teen, but it had been completely worth it. Of course she would falter, and he would totally screw up at times. But at least now they were more or less on the same page, rather than adversaries fighting over page-turning rights.


	3. Tacos and Light Switches

A/N: I just want to thank you all for your patience. I take a long time, I know, but I've got multiple chapters in various stages of completion, and I go to each one as I figure out what the characters want me to do next. I'm pretty happy about the way each little aspect of each chapter is developing (well, except I'm not terribly thrilled with this chapter... can't win them all). So... so that's why progress is slow; I have no problem sacrificing speed for the ability to tell the story exactly as it unfolds in my heart.

Disclaimer, spoilers, and such: Still not mine... pity. Major spoilers for Breakdown. As in, we recap the whole episode here. And wow, I think we need to add a language warning! It's nothing beyond the usual words they've been known to use in the show, but it's more strongly T-rated than my usual, so there you have it.

* * *

Claudia was instantly suspicious when she heard the familiar hesitant knock on her bedroom door. She knew it had to be too good to be true, when Artie wasn't even upset enough to yell after finding out she, along with Pete and Myka, had nearly blown up the warehouse in his short absence. She knew he'd gone to hand over reports that would be taken directly to the mysterious group of regents... they'd talked briefly about it a few nights ago on their first official "Claudia-night". She also knew it wasn't usually an all-day event... he'd expected to be back around lunchtime, maybe later if he decided to have some time to himself in town. Not that Artie ever did that. "Time to himself" usually meant he was going upstairs in the warehouse to curl up with a book or spend time in quiet introspection. So Claudia knew something unusual had transpired during his time away from the warehouse, and while they'd been relieved that he didn't get mad at them for nearly blowing up half of South Dakota this afternoon, she knew it would come back to haunt them later, when Artie was feeling less overwhelmed by... well, by whatever must have happened.

So it was with not a small amount of trepidation that she answered, "Come in!" from her place on her bed, reclining among her pillows with a book she'd been wanting to read. She watched as Artie first poked his head into the room, then entered, clutching the bag of tacos that they'd brought back for him. He smiled gently as he sat down at her desk and began unwrapping a taco.

"So..." Claudia said. Quiet was not Artie's usual mode of operation, even when food was involved. And yet, there he sat, munching thoughtfully, waiting until the first of three tacos was half-finished before he spoke.

"You didn't tell me that you were _on_ the zipline when the emergency switch got tripped," he finally said, worry evident in the funny way he stressed the word "on" in the midst of an otherwise calm sentence. He quickly took another bite of his dinner, more to prevent himself from flipping out than anything else.

"You talked to Myka," Claudia surmised, her tone utterly flat. Artie flinched almost imperceptibly. Claudia's trust was such a fragile thing; he hadn't realized that simply talking with Myka about the day would feel like a betrayal to the teen. Artie immediately resolved to ask Claudia about Claudia's day, from now on, rather than doing the "all-knowing parent, who already got the scoop from big sister" thing.

"I talked to Myka," he said, affirming Claudia's assumption. "She said the zipline crashed with you on it, the neutralizer processing center got jammed with a can of super sticky string, which then tried to kill you and Myka, and Pete nearly got killed by Sylvia Plath's typewriter in the dark vault, which you... I wish you hadn't gone through there, but I suppose it was for the best, since you only had about a minute to spare before... before everything exploded." He fell silent for a moment, munching his dinner and waiting to see if she would speak. She didn't, so he prodded gently, "It sounded pretty scary."

"I'm fine." Denial. Lovely. Artie busied himself with the second taco as he thought about where to go next.

"How did the zipline fall?" he asked, using dinner again as a way to stop his tendency to fill the air with his own thoughts, and allow her time to talk.

"I was doing the chores you left for me, and... well, I thought I fixed the auto-vac, but as soon as I went to work on the zipline, I guess it malfunctioned, because it knocked the ladder out from under me. And it was dumb, but I grabbed onto whatever I could to stop from falling off the ladder... and ended up halfway across the warehouse with no safety gear whatsoever. And then the damn auto-vac must have nailed the emergency release switch. And that was when I fell into the warehouse copy of Leena's and got trapped." Claudia paused as Artie crumpled a taco wrapper, worry rippling in his eyes.

"You fell into... are you injured?"

Claudia shook her head in reply. "Coolest bruise ever, but that's about it. The roofing kind of ripped my jeans a little." Artie waited, but again she fell silent, forcing him to pry. He was starting to get the impression that she liked it, just a little bit, when he showed enough interest to ask questions and prod.

"So... sticky string?" he asked.

"Yeah, the zipline must have knocked it over... it broke just about everything underneath it for at least a quarter mile. The artifacts are all dormant, but I'm going to be cleaning that mess up for weeks. My best guess is a can of the string fell through a vent into the gooery."

"I guess we need to put some chicken wire or something over the vents so things can't fall through," Artie said thoughtfully, getting a snort of laughter out of Claudia.

"And by that, you mean _I_ need to put something over the vents. Already on my to-do list."

"Yeah, so is fixing that light switch, by the way, young lady," Artie said, now that she'd reminded him of things she needed to fix.

"Already done, cranky. Couldn't have people grabbing live wires... besides, it was kind of throwing sparks all over the place. Blew a fuse and everything. I managed to short it out pretty good." Artie chuckled at that, choosing to ignore the "cranky" jab.

"You know, that is, more or less, what was supposed to happen. When Myka kicked the keypad, she was counting on it shorting out, and the door freaking out. Pete's lucky it didn't lock the door, which is what is _supposed_ to happen in that situation, as a failsafe."

"We're all lucky that didn't happen, since Pete saved our asses in the gooery... but I still want to learn how to do stuff like that without breaking bones," Claudia said, then flinched slightly, realizing that she might have let the cat out of the bag until she saw the look of remembrance on Artie's face. Nope, no luck, Myka had already informed him. Claudia began whining before Artie could even make the demand she knew was coming.

"Oh yeah, your toe... let me see it." Artie said. He completely ignored the whining and pointed at her sock-covered right foot, guessing that she'd used her dominant leg for her attempt at being a badass. Accepting defeat, his companion peeled the sock off, frowning a little as it stirred up fresh pain. Artie leaned over to get a good look before pronouncing his opinion. "Might be broken, but it doesn't look like it needs medical attention. Take it easy, and if it's not improving after a couple days, you tell me, do you understand me, young lady?"

"Yeah, no problem," Claudia replied, nodding with wide-eyed seriousness. Artie softened his expression once he was certain he'd gotten the point across.

"So... nearly getting eaten in the... the gooery, I like that word. Myka said you seemed a little shaken up." Actually she said Claudia had collapsed into Pete's hug and stayed there for quite some time, but Artie figured it was best to paraphrase that one. He expected Claudia to shrug it off, and she did so without a trace of hesitation, without even breaking eye contact. Damn, this child was good at lying about her heart, and it nearly broke his to think of how she must have learned that coping habit. Finished with his dinner, Artie got up from the desk and made his way to the bed, sitting to face her.

"You don't have to be all big and bad for me, you know," he said gently.

"I'm not," came her peevish retort. Not acting all big and bad, he wondered? Or not doing it for his benefit? He knew the first was a load of crap, but the second... he decided to go with that interpretation, see how it played.

Artie took a calming breath as he thought for a moment. He knew it was just a lot of leftover stress that she needed help coping with, but it seemed like Claudia was trying to push all his buttons at once tonight. "Let me try that again," he said. "A lot of times in this job, and even life in general, we have to put on a confident face and just forge ahead. If we were to allow uncertainty to affect us, well, it wouldn't be good. But when it's just you and me, I want you to be honest, kiddo." Artie let that hang in the air for a moment. "Myka said you seemed shaken up," he said again, now that he'd established some sort of expectations for how Claudia should respond. He watched carefully as she first weighed the risk of being that vulnerable. She must have deemed him worth the risk, he realized as her expression changed, evidence of the thoughts and feelings that flooded her memory, and her eyes filled with the fear of a person who's just realized how close she'd been to death.

"I knew better than to take the gloves off when touching an artifact... I don't know why I did that," she finally said. Artie didn't know whether to yell at her or hug her, at that admission. She was right; that was so far beyond a rookie mistake, there weren't even words for how stupid a choice she'd made. But he knew _that_ wasn't the right thing to say, so he remained silent, waiting to see what Claudia would say next. "Pete figured out how to save us... you know how a tennis ball will shatter if you dip it in liquid nitrogen and then bounce it?" Artie nodded. "Yeah... turns out sticky string will shatter too... makes sense, similar properties." Artie was going to respond, but the words died on his lips when he looked up at Claudia. Her eyes were searching his face, he realized, asking in her own way if she could _really_ trust him. Uncomfortable as it was, he sat motionless and quiet, allowing her to study his eyes, to paw through his heart and soul. It was a question that her eyes had been asking often, lately, in these quiet moments.

"What?" Artie finally asked, wondering if he'd passed her inspection. Claudia took several deep breaths, her hands twisting around as if they were trying to draw words from her mouth, words that were stuck just beneath the surface. He'd passed, all right, he thought as he waited for her to fight with a decade of distrusting habits. As much as Artie wanted to help, this was Claudia's battle and she needed him to simply sit and support her while she fought it. He gently took her chilled hand between his rough, warm ones. Such a connection gave her strength when she was little, he remembered. Maybe it would have the same effect now as well. He watched her take one more breath as the look in her eyes shifted from stuck to determined. The battle was won.

"The scariest part was that this time I knew you couldn't come save me," Claudia said, the words tumbling almost on top of one another as she gave up fighting a losing battle for stoic independence. She tipped toward Artie with such unexpected suddenness that his arms caught her out of sheer reflex before his brain engaged enough to gather her into the fatherly hug she sought.

"Come here, moppet," Artie muttered as he turned around to lean against the headboard, dragging her slender form along with. Perturbed eyes peered up at him from within his embrace.

"Moppet? What am I, eight?" Claudia asked, a small smile giving away the sense of amusement that hid beneath her annoyed reaction.

"No, but I remember when you were, and I could already tell that you'd grow up to be at least as much a pain in the ass as I am," Artie answered with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Did you know I'd grow up to be a warehouse agent, too?" Artie smiled at Claudia's question as he thought back to the little girl in his memory.

"I knew you had the potential, but I, I didn't... at the time I could foresee many options for your future. I knew that if you chose this one, you'd make a phenomenal agent." Artie's smile faded, his sense of empathy causing him to mirror the frown that had suddenly come across Claudia's face. "What, what's wrong?" he asked. Claudia responded by squirming and reaching into her pocket, pulling out the headlamp that Artie realized must have begun to dig into her side as she'd reclined in his protective arms. He chuckled when he saw her name in jewels on the elastic band. "You know, I'm sure I still have the original in a box somewhere, but... well I put it somewhere safe, and someday I'll remember where that safe place is," he said.

"You saved it?" Claudia asked, a confused frown creeping over her features. "Why?"

"It was probably a month after Joshua disappeared, when I found that headband... I don't even know how it ended up in my coat pocket. I just remember he'd gotten you that jewel... craft kit... thing to keep you occupied so he could work."

"Didn't work," Claudia said with a wry grin.

"Well, it occupied your hands while you tried to figure out everything... about everything he was working on. No, it didn't work," Artie conceded. The memory was so much funnier now than it had been at the time... or perhaps the passage of time made him treasure the past all the more, he wasn't sure which. "You'd worked out such a complicated set of equations to design your name, instead of just laying out the beads and seeing what it looked like. That was... that was when I knew there was something special, that you had the sort of outside-the-box approach to perfectionism that keeps warehouse agents alive. I tried to return it to you when I found it, you know... the social workers weren't terribly helpful, to say the least. So I tucked it away in the hopes that I'd have the chance to return it someday."

"I probably would have lost it in the thousand or so moves, anyway," Claudia muttered, provoking her mentor to hold her just a little closer.

"I wish I could have... well, I shouldn't let the joy of today get muddied up with yesterday's regrets."

"So, how did making me a new headband... which is very useful, by the way, I love the headlamp. But how did that help you let go of yesterday's regrets?" Claudia asked. She'd meant it to be a rather pointed question just to annoy, but realized she'd started a more emotional conversation as she watched a thoughtful look come over Artie's face.

"Leena threw a box of my old storage on my reading sofa upstairs in the warehouse, so I had to clean that up before I could sit down and read... which was probably her intent, but... well, anyway." Artie groused, getting a chuckle out of his young companion. "Among the books and photos, I found that silly craft kit your brother had given you... don't ask me how I ended up with that, either. I guess it was mixed into some things that belonged... belonged in the warehouse. I found it to be strangely cathartic, a way of remembering the little girl who I, I wish I could have protected and taken care of then, but who I'm so fortunate to get a second chance with. Second chances are really more rare than we would like to think." Artie finally fell silent, lost in his memory for a few moments until Claudia shifted against him, drawing him back to the present.

He watched as her fingers traced over the delicate design of her own name, nodding gently. He understood her unspoken words. Artie's foray into crafting had been a little silly, sure, but it was also sweet, a reminder of their shared history. But now that she knew the story behind it, the kitschy, little-girl decoration had suddenly become a highly-prized tangible reminder of the relationship that had once been lost but that Artie was working so diligently to regrow, like a plant coming back to life after a hard winter. It was hard evidence, she realized as she ran her fingers over his handiwork, that she was indeed wanted and treasured even on the days when she didn't feel particularly valuable or worthwhile... days like today, when her trust wavered and her footing faltered.

"It's okay if it's hard to trust you, right?" Claudia asked suddenly, unexpectedly. Artie blinked, slightly hurt by the question before he remembered that trust is not instant, especially for somebody who'd been through as much as she had been in her young life. He took a breath as he reminded himself that he should count it a win that she had given him a second chance at all, though he had a sneaking suspicion that it was mostly because she didn't have enough sense of self-worth to envision herself anywhere else, and the artifacts were intriguing enough for her to tolerate him.

"I know trusting me is hard," Artie answered. "I know that one minute you may feel very... very secure and safe, and the next, it feels like you're in mortal danger. I plan to keep – I'm going to keep fighting to earn your trust. For one thing, I'll come to you to find out about your day, and not take my information from Myka, or Pete, or anybody else."

"Not a big deal," Claudia said, even though Artie could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "It wasn't a very rational reaction."

"It is a big deal, not because feeling betrayed is necessarily logical in that situation, but because now I, I know it shakes your sense of trust. I'm sorry you got hurt, however unintentional it was on my part. Now that I realize that, I'm going to make a point not to do it again. I should... I should really talk to you anyway, let you tell your story for yourself."

Claudia nodded her acceptance of his apology, not really sure how to deal with it. She wasn't accustomed to people apologizing... wasn't used to people who thought she deserved to be treated with kindness. Artie's habit of treating her with boundless, if awkward and unconventional, love was entirely foreign to her, and she had no idea how to accept it most of the time.

Artie smiled warmly down at the teen still resting against him like a little girl. He was surprised that she hadn't yet moved, or for that matter, surprised that she'd let him take care of her in her moment of insecurity in the first place. He'd known that this life would present challenge unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, but he'd kind of expected it to be more of an intellectual challenge for the young genius, rather than the emotional challenge that had presented itself for both of them instead. Not that he minded, but this was entirely not what he'd had in mind on that fateful day when he'd asked her to make this place her home, in his usual backward manner.

"So tell me how you finally escaped the warehouse copy of Leena's," Artie asked, delighting in the easy, relaxed smile that spread across Claudia's face as she sat up and turned to face him to tell the tale of how she, Pete, and Myka had combined the best of each of their talents to figure out how to manipulate the artifact and escape just in time to save the warehouse.

* * *

I'd love to hear what y'all think about this one, because I really have about zero confidence about the characterization... and even less confidence about the next chapter which is getting totally, completely out of hand and it's only... bah, one-third done, maybe? And with a critically ill family member... yeah, sorry, it's just going to take time. I'm glad some of you think it's worth the wait, though! It means a lot to me, really.


	4. Return from CERN

Disclaimers, spoilers, and whatnot: Still not mine... even Joanne is only half-mine. Spoilers through 2.01 or so. If you haven't seen that far yet, good grief, get a Netflix account and catch up.

A/N: Special thanks to KJay99 for the beta work, for even MORE beta work after the chapter already went live, and for being you (and not killing me for that joke). I feel compelled to point out to my readers that all moments of mushiness are entirely the fault of the author, not the beta! Any typos, errors, failure to italicize direct thoughts, or idiotic plot ideas that didn't work, are also entirely the author's fault. Apologies for taking so long at this. I finally had to skip over the chapter that was meant to go here, because it just wasn't working. If I ever get it done, I'll post it out of order for y'all, or maybe as a separate story. Also, I know this is slightly rough in places, but I've been working on it since August 2010, I have no ideas on how to fix it, and I'm beyond ready to be done with it. You see something that I could/should have done better? Please, by all means, tell me about it! And by the same token tell me what you like, too. Otherwise I'm going to start changing things up until I get more interesting reviews!

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Claudia grabbed her messenger bag and practically ran to keep up with Artie, who'd already put a good twenty paces between them as he snaked his way through the other passengers exiting the plane they'd taken from Switzerland to London. By the time she'd caught up to him, she felt like she'd crossed half of the airport terminal, and pissed off about half of London in the process. Finally, finally he stopped in a place that didn't quite look like the rest of the terminal. Actually, Claudia suddenly realized with a disconcerted sense, she had no idea where she was at all. It looked like an airport, but without all the people. And Artie was heading out a door and downstairs to the pavement below before she had a chance to ask where he was taking her.

She picked back up to a jog, continuing her goal of catching up, but lurched to a stop when she saw where he was going. Artie continued, unaware that he'd lost his young red-haired shadow until he was halfway up another flight of stairs towards a small plane with just a registration number, no airline logo. He suddenly realized he was alone as he hit the second step, and turned around, eyes searching the landscape until they landed upon her. Claudia was still rooted to the spot about 15 feet away from the stairs he was already partway up. Artie contemplated for a moment the idea of just boarding their next flight and waiting for her to follow, but he sensed that this was one of those rare times when he shouldn't wait until they had privacy to be a little more hands-on. He launched his bag onto the plane and then turned back for his traveling companion, who by this point had gone fairly pale.

"Come on," he said gruffly, as he reached a hand out to grasp hers supportively.

"That's smaller than the tin can I had to take to Denver," Claudia replied, shaking her head wide-eyed. _Really? Saving the world, no problem, but a small aircraft scared the teen?_ Artie rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Claudia, I don't have time for- listen to me, we have _got_ to stop MacPherson. The world can't afford for us to take needless risks to accomplish that goal. It's safe, you're safe." He watched for a moment as fear warred with logic in her eyes, before she finally moved toward their flight, her hesitant steps melting into a hurried jog as her confidence grew. Artie smiled to himself as he watched her thunder up the steps. Her confidence wasn't in safety records or pilot experience or anything concrete; she had confidence that he could be trusted with her life, even when she wasn't so sure of what he was asking her to do. Artie stepped up the pace to catch up – and ran headlong into Claudia not three steps past the passenger door. He didn't really blame her. Mrs. Frederic's private jet was a thing to behold. Gulfstream jets have a high-class reputation in the first place, but Mrs. F had made some nice changes. The four seats were still in pairs facing one another with a table between each pair, but the upholstery was more overstuffed, like sinking into an inviting recliner, and the electronics nearest the sofa had been geared more toward entertainment than business, with a fairly respectable television and sound system.

Artie smiled when he opened a storage compartment to stow his bag. Somebody, no doubt Leena, had thought to give Mrs. F. a bag of necessities for the weary pair. Claudia would feel more calm once she was settled on the sofa in her own pajamas, with her favourite movie. He grabbed her sack of goods and pressed it into her hands.

"It looks like they're still fueling our plane, so we have some time before takeoff. Go get changed. Lot of work to do when we get home; we need to rest while we can." Claudia wordlessly took the bag in a sort of distracted haze, still a little taken aback by her surroundings. Artie grabbed his own bag of nightclothes and glanced at the closed door. If he was quick, he could probably change clothes before she emerged. But of course if he tried, this would be the one time he got his foot caught in his pajama pants and fell on his face, he thought as he discarded that idea. Instead he set to taking out linens for the fold-out sofa, relocating the blankets and pillows from overhead storage to an easier-to-reach cabinet for later.

When Claudia emerged, he grabbed his bag with a semi-communicative grunt, and slid past her toward the washroom. Claudia watched him disappear into the closet of a room before she sat down timidly on the sofa across from the television, relaxing as she sunk into the cushy furniture. This was nicer than she'd expected, she observed as she gave in to her weary body's demand to lay down and stretch out. Just as her eyes slid closed, however, she heard the click of a door opening. Claudia breathed a quiet sigh and opened her eyes, expecting to see Artie coming from the back of the plane. Instead, she found a woman standing near the front. Mentally grumbling at how badly she'd let her guard down, to not even realize the sound had come from the entirely wrong direction, Claudia sat up and eyed the woman warily.

"Where's Artie?" the mystery woman asked. Claudia's eyes cast about the passenger cabin, taking inventory of possible weapons while also considering her potential opponent. This woman was about Myka's age and height, with hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes. She carried herself as if she owned the place, and her clothing suggested someone who, even at her most casual, was always neatly dressed, always put-together and ready to walk out the door at a moment's notice. Claudia's eyes widened almost imperceptibly as she put the pieces together.

"You're the pilot," she said, more of a question than the statement it sounded like. A confident smile spread across the other woman's face.

"Well there are two of us, but I'm your captain tonight. Joanne Priest," the woman answered, stretching her right hand out. Claudia grasped and shook it. Immediately, about a thousand "priest and rabbi" jokes flitted through her mind, but she figured somebody who'd lived with that surname for longer than about a week, had probably heard them all.

"Claudia Donovan. Artie's getting changed," Claudia finally answered, tilting her head toward the washroom. Joanne nodded.

"He said he wanted the flight plan and weather reports to go over with you," she replied, indicating the packet of papers in her left hand as she sat down a little distance away from Claudia. The teen looked at the mess of information, then shot a perplexed look at Joanne, who reached for the pen in her pocket as she took in Claudia's confused expression. Flashing back to the day when she'd begun educating a very frustrated Artie on the finer points of aviation shorthand, she used her pen as a pointer and walked Claudia through the concisely-formatted plethora of information.

Joanne registered the teen's nervousness, but at least Claudia was less agitated than Artie had been when he'd first demanded to understand the printed information that explained why the flight had been two hours longer than he'd anticipated. She'd been almost certain that her snarky remark about headwinds and a certain windbag of a passenger would cost her her job, or at least a week's pay, but instead it seemed to put the grouchy agent at ease. It was then that she'd realized that Artie was most comfortable when people interacted with him in the same short, sarcastic manner that he dished out. She wondered how Claudia wanted to be approached, as she continued her explanation of the weather reports and how they would affect landing time. The girl, already asking questions about route, weather, and basic aviation theory, seemed comfortable with simple facts communicated in a straightforward but pleasant manner, but she had to be just a little wry, if she'd survived working with Artie thus far.

"I see we get the A team today," Artie commented when he emerged in his pajamas, interrupting Joanne's explanation of aerodynamics and turbulence. She glanced up and met Artie's gaze with a grin.

"Yeah, when you call for a ride sooner rather than later, I actually have enough time to rest, instead of having to bring a backup crew. Totally amazing, I know. If you'd given me about six more hours, I could have picked you up in Switzerland instead of having to stop and sleep in London." Claudia watched with amusement as Artie rolled his eyes at their captain's good-natured jab at his tendency to not communicate until absolutely required. "Hey, I heard a new one the other day." Artie merely raised one eyebrow and leaned against the wall, listening to this colleague who, while she wasn't close like Leena, obviously was on good terms with the elder agent. "A priest walks into a bar," Joanne said, letting that hang in the air for a beat before she continued with a straight face. "Bartender says, we don't serve pilots here." Artie groaned, but smiled at the absurd joke.

"You know, Joanne, someday you're going to get married," he said as he picked up the packet of papers Claudia had ended up holding. "Then you won't have that name to poke fun at anymore. Then what are you going to do to amuse yourself?"

"Make fun of you," the woman shot back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Claudia snickered at that, in spite of her attempt not to. "Weather reports look good," Joanne said, shifting gears back to business mode. "We're going to get some headwinds off the Atlantic coast, which will probably blow our landing time, but not by a whole lot... 10, 20 minutes maybe. Other than that, we should have the usual shaking and bumping, but nothing major. Should be a pretty comfortable flight for you both. Oh, and Leena packed you guys a snack in the galley. Claudia, you want to go rummage for it? There's a lot in there, but it's labeled."

"Sure, no problem," Claudia said as she stood and made her way towards the front of the plane.

"She okay?" Joanne asked Artie.

Artie threw a confused look at the woman and shrugged in reply to her question. "She's got a lot of worry on her mind, but if I try to tell her what to do with it, she kind of shuts down, just agrees with everything I say, and believe me, that is _not_ typical Claudia."

"Maybe talking about it is her way of processing and analyzing it so she can deal with it on her own," Joanne suggested. "Maybe instead of solutions, she simply needs an ear to hear and a shoulder to lean on. She seems like she's got a good head, after all." Artie nodded at that assessment of his young assistant. "Try listening and mirroring what she's saying," Joanne advised. "If something sucks, say so, but don't tell her to fix it. Just let her know her feelings aren't wrong. I'd just about bet money that if you were to do that, she'd be able to figure out how to deal with it all on her own."

"That is so entirely pointless, not solving problems as they're presented," Artie said.

"Really?" Joanne said, shooting Artie a frustrated look. "Gee, it's hard to imagine how somebody hasn't snapped you up yet. She's a girl, Artie."

"You're a girl, and you don't just want somebody to listen and agree with you!" Artie said, forcefully but quietly, his confusion and annoyance showing.

"Just give it a try," she replied. "If it doesn't work, then by all means, go back to your way of handling her." Finally Artie nodded, accepting the woman's advice. "She seems like a nervous flier," Joanne continued, shifting topic slightly. Artie nodded again.

"Not very experienced," he added by way of explanation.

"Yeah, I guessed that by her questions... very curious, but very basic things. She wasn't even quite sure what kept the aircraft aloft. If she has questions or concerns, let me know. You can even send her up to the flight deck when I'm not busy, if she wants."

"She needs to sleep," Artie said.

"Artie, you barely sleep on a plane. How's she going to manage it?" Artie rolled his eyes at the woman, but didn't answer, since Claudia was already returning with a container of mixed berries. He smiled warmly at her. Leena had done a great job preparing this space for their return flight. A snack before bed would do them both some good.

"Like I just told Artie," Joanne said, turning her attention to the teen standing in the aisle, "I'm going to close the door so you have some peace and quiet back here. But if you have any questions or concerns, just hit the intercom button and I'll answer. We're about ready to do our run up and then we'll be in the air shortly." With that, the woman stood back up and slid past Claudia toward the front of the plane. At the doorway she stopped and turned back to her passengers. "Oh, Artie... you can go ahead and make up that bed now if you want. It's going to be smooth takeoff; it'll be fine." Artie nodded in reply, and Claudia watched the woman disappear into a sea of well-lit switches and gauges before the door closed, leaving the two of them alone again.

Artie pointed Claudia at a forward-facing seat in the private jet, then hurried through making up their beds, sliding into his own rear-facing seat with just enough time left to buckle up and grab his nervous companion's hands across the table before he felt the familiar acceleration down the runway. Claudia's fingers tightened around his as the cabin rocked slightly, and Artie tried to will the plane into the air faster, before her vicelike grip did any damage. Takeoff always made Artie think of a goose toddling this way and that, getting a running start and then springing into the air with the first few rough flaps of its wings. Apparently, however, it made Claudia think of twisted metal, smoldering upholstery, and the same two-minute bit of information being repeated on CNN for 20 hours straight. Once the worst of it was over, Artie turned loose of one hand and rummaged for the snack he'd seen her tuck into the storage compartment under her seat. Claudia smiled gratefully and reached for a small handful of berries, finding courage to let go of Artie's other hand. She quietly munched on a few grapes and strawberries and Artie followed suit. A talk was coming, but if she wanted to wait a few more minutes, they could wait.

"Nice place," she commented around a raspberry. Artie nodded in response.

"Once we get to cruising altitude, I thought we could put on a movie. Whoever packed your pajamas..." he muttered, rummaging around for a moment before producing two movies. "We have The Goonies, and The American President." Claudia frowned in thought, reaching for the second movie.

"I think this is Myka's. I've never seen it... only a few bits. It was kind of cute... I think I could fall asleep in front of this," she finally decreed, handing the movie over to Artie. He nodded his approval and launched her choice onto the sofa-bed before shoving the other movie back into the bag it came from. He allowed the quiet to continue for a few more moments before deciding it was time. Claudia was so nervous, he knew she would stay put until she was told she could take the seatbelt off, so he had a captive audience for once. And even if she did get up, there really wasn't very far to run in the plane.

"So why did you run? Why didn't you just trust me?" he asked. Claudia glared at him with a wrinkled nose, as if she'd seen or smelled something distasteful, but Artie merely peered into her eyes, standing his ground. They were going to talk – she was going to talk.

"Leena and Mrs. Frederic had evidence suggesting that I... I helped MacPherson break into the warehouse," she answered. Artie turned his gaze to the berry bowl still between them. Her voice sounded weak and timid, but in her eyes, all he saw was... he wasn't sure, but it definitely wasn't timidity. Rage was more like it. When he looked back, her face was downcast, arms wrapped around her middle in that way she tended to, when she felt insecure. It was how she comforted herself, Artie suddenly realized, instead of allowing herself to depend on anybody else. He studied her for a few moments, munching blueberries as he pondered.

"And when faced with that evidence, you expected me to believe them and to force you to leave. You thought it would be easier if you left on your own, without having to hear any of that from me." Claudia's eyes snapped to his almost instantly. She hadn't expected that. "I've been reading about... about how foster care affects kids," he explained. "You've lived half your life just waiting for the moment that you're not wanted anymore, that you - you have to move along to the next place. That's why you get scared when I raise my voice. It's why you ran. It's probably why you keep a bag packed in your closet, where you think nobody sees it –"

"You go through my things?" Claudia shrieked, not caring that she'd interrupted what was otherwise a fairly sweet, if a tad creepy, analysis of her greatest fear in life. Artie put a hand up to quiet her.

"Claudia, Pete's chore is vacuuming the house, not keeping secrets. He mentioned it in passing. You can hit him when we get home." He almost chuckled as the teen bobbed her head in agreement. Pete was certain to have a new bruise on his shoulder when she got through with him. "So," Artie continued, "you didn't trust me because you expected to be gotten rid of at some point anyhow?" He sat quietly for a moment, waiting as he watched the thoughts and feelings ripple across her face. Anger. Terror. Shame. And then, almost unexpectedly, grateful relief as she nodded. Somebody had finally cracked the puzzle that was her heart. "Why did you assume I would agree with Mrs. Frederic and Leena?" he asked.

"Artie, when you're not at home, you're on radio silence, man. They had proof, and I had no way to reach you and even tell you what was going on. It's not like I had any reason to believe it was going to work out... I got totally set up, and even they fell for it, so... so why wouldn't you?" Artie cringed at Claudia's answer. She sounded so completely dejected, as if she'd given up on life entirely. He wondered if this was what she was like every time she'd had to move, growing up. _No wonder nobody seemed to connect with her,_ he mused.

"Claudia, I – you didn't even... do you _know_ what I went through for you just in the past week?"

"I know you took Pete and Myka to go talk to your partner's woman, who you fooled around with, by the way, and I didn't even know where you were or how to contact you, the whole time you were gone. I know you weren't there when I needed you," she spat. Artie cringed, but he knew he deserved that. He should have called and checked in once in a while; he knew that much just from those sappy movies Myka sometimes watched.

"MacPherson killed me," Artie said quietly, causing Claudia to pale, and lean back in her seat. "He blew up the umbilicus, the place is a huge mess. I used- I used the Phoenix."

"What? How? Why?" Claudia asked, still in an angry tone. Artie almost took it as a question of why he bothered to use it, but in her eyes was utter confusion. The tone was just because she was hurting, he realized.

"You," Artie answered simply. "The warehouse will go on without me. But it was worth the risk, for your sake." He sat back and let her process that. He'd hoped his answer would reach out and touch her heart somehow, and it appeared that it had, as the sour mood seemed to melt away, leaving a sense of awe in its place. He knew there was more to discuss, about that, but she was still processing that information. The questions would come later.

"And you flew to Switzerland alone," Artie continued when he got tired of the silence. "How'd that go?" Claudia's eyes widened with just a touch of fear, at the memory.

"Fine, it went fine," she answered. Artie merely raised an eyebrow at that. Claudia sighed. She knew he wasn't going to buy it but she had to at least try. "Scariest thing I've ever done in my entire life," she muttered, glancing away. Artie let her admission hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

"There are easier ways of getting my attention," Artie replied.

"Would you really have followed me for the rest of your life?" Claudia asked suddenly. Artie blinked; he hadn't seen that one coming somehow. He nodded in reply. "Why?"

"Just letting you go didn't work out too well the last time, so, why—why repeat history?" Artie answered with a glint of humor in his eye. He quickly shifted back into serious mode when Claudia shot him a perturbed look. "I know you-you don't quite believe it and that's okay, but you're stuck with me for life now, kiddo." He was right; she didn't believe him. But at the same time, he was proving it with his actions. In spite of her steadfast resolve not to let anybody into her heart ever again, Artie was starting to break through her defenses, bit by bit, and Claudia knew it was only a matter of time before she would lose the battle to keep him at arms' length.

Artie made a show of glancing over to the screen displaying, among other things, their current altitude. They'd been cruising for a little while now, but he'd wanted to push through the tough part of the conversation now, while honesty was coming quickly and easily for them both. He released his seatbelt and extended a hand toward his young companion, waiting for her to take it before he stood and led her to the sofa. They sat down and Claudia almost instinctively leaned against him, provoking a yelp of pain. She jumped back, wide-eyed, and Artie slid over into the space she'd been occupying, so she could sit on his other side.

"Sorry about that," Claudia muttered as she tucked her feet up underneath herself like a cat.

"It's all right, I'll heal," he said, rubbing the bump on his head with a wince more for the effect than because it was all that painful. "Eventually, anyway."

"I didn't know who was following me," Claudia tried to explain. Artie nodded, understanding filling his eyes. He wasn't sure why she seemed so defensive. It hadn't been one of his best moments as an agent, and he didn't blame her for her reaction to his poorly thought-out choices.

"I used an artifact to disguise myself because I was afraid you'd think I was coming after you instead of coming for you," Artie explained. "In hindsight, though... I, I sort of got what I deserved for stalking a very frightened, street-smart, very resourceful young woman, who was quite obviously hyper-aware of her surroundings in spite of the confusing nature of being in a foreign city. Claudia snickered at the way Artie described his own ill-planned actions, and he knew he'd eased her sense of guilt. "I'm glad to know you can defend yourself, even when entirely unarmed, if you should ever need to... could have done without the headache, or the running away in the first place, but I... you handled yourself very well once you'd gotten into this mess, and well, I... I'm proud of you, Claudia." She blew out an amused breath at the flustered embarrassment practically radiating from her mentor, but at the same time, Claudia had no idea how to react. All she'd ever wanted was to make Artie happy, to make somebody happy. But how are you supposed to respond when it actually happens? Artie, in the midst of his own awkward moment, wrapped his arm around her, and she understood the message. The way her eyes had misted over and her head had rested a little more heavily on his shoulder, that was all the response needed.

"It was scary watching the way security stopped you when MacPherson saw you at CERN when we went to help Joshua," Claudia said after a few minutes of silence. Artie wanted to get on her case for giving in to fear, but Joanne's words came back to him at that moment.

"I wasn't entirely sure how we were going to get out of that, myself," he said after a little thought. He hadn't been frightened in the least; rather, he was merely focused and determined. But Claudia hadn't seemed overly terrified in that instant either. She'd been alert, quick-thinking, and ready to do whatever it took. But in all honesty he didn't have a sure plan at that very moment, when the authorities suddenly swarmed around him. He wondered for a moment if his admission would work to calm Claudia's fears, or if Mrs. Frederic's pilot was completely off her rocker.

Claudia's stressed-out expression gave way to a grin. "Good thing you'd already figured out he had the thimble," she said, referring to their discussion on the flight from Geneva to London, about how MacPherson had likely made it look like Claudia had gone to the dark side.

"Well after he used it to impersonate me, it didn't take much to figure out that he might do the same to you," Artie answered. "I just wish I'd realized that before I was somewhere over the Atlantic."

"Wait, he used it to impersonate you, too?" Claudia asked, shooting Artie a serious look. "What the hell, Artie? What happened while I was gone?" Artie sighed and rubbed his beard with his free hand, not daring to remove his arm from around Claudia's shoulders just yet.

"He- I- Claudia, can I tell you the whole story after it's all over? This isn't helping either of us rest." Claudia nodded, but he could tell she wasn't quite ready to let it go. "What?" Artie prompted.

"He used it to impersonate you, too, and they still thought I was really a double agent?" she asked.

"Pete and Myka... they saw... nobody was sure what to believe or who to trust. That was his game plan, tear apart the team from within. Now that we know he'd had the thimble for a while, his plan to pit all of us against one another has already unraveled. Deception cannot survive in the light of day." Artie mentally cringed at his failure to simply listen and agree, as he heard himself explain and solve the problems that Claudia probably didn't need him to solve. Drawing a deep breath, he tried again, hoping it wasn't too belated. "They really thought that for a little while, but they trusted me when I refused to believe the evidence presented."

Artie knew there were many more questions where those came from, but he could also see that Claudia was beginning to calm down for now, that worry was giving way to confidence, and also to exhaustion. Wordlessly, he reached across the sofa for the movie he'd thrown there earlier, as he got up to turn on the television. Within a matter of minutes, the majestic opening score of the movie filled the small space, drowning out at least some of the plane's own noises. Claudia took her cues from the older agent and got more comfortable, stretching her legs more fully across the folded-out sofa, her back still resting on the sea of pillows Artie had placed against the side of the aircraft as she waited for Artie to return to his place next to her, in this makeshift arrangement of their usual Friday night position. Once he returned to his spot and wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, she allowed herself to be drawn into the movie, knowing full well that from this unfamiliar yet treasured place of love and safety, she wouldn't be awake to see the end of the show.


	5. Impromptu Sage

Disclaimers, spoilers, and whatnot: Still not mine. Spoilers for Warehouse 13.1 and the episode prior. Special thanks to my beta, KJay99, whose notes I actually listened to, for the most part! You'll notice I even remembered to italicize that one bit!

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Artie glanced up from the paperwork he'd been busying himself with for the past hour and a half, turning away from his small writing desk just in time to see Claudia dive into his unmade bed and bury herself under the blanket, knocking his book off the nightstand in the process. Artie watched with silent resignation as his bookmark fluttered out. He hadn't really been reading the last chapter or so, anyway... he'd just been skimming the words with little comprehension, while worrying about other things... other things, like the young woman now hiding among his bedding. Other things, like the fact that her boyfriend had come calling well over an hour ago... and the fact that shortly after his arrival, Artie had heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs and into the teen's bedroom. Artie observed for a moment, perplexed, carefully forcing himself not to make any assumptions about what had happened in the past ninety minutes. There were just too many possibilities, he realized, as he suppressed the urge to go give this Todd character a piece of his mind... or fist.

Artie quietly made his way to the bed, sitting in his usual Friday-night spot next to Claudia, resting his back against the headboard. She didn't respond, or even move from her place under the blanket, so he absently rested his hand on the blanket-covered form of her shoulder, or upper arm... he wasn't entirely sure which. He still had no idea what to do, but he reasoned that she had come seeking comfort, so that's what he sought to provide. After several minutes, the blanket moved, and Claudia's face emerged, eyes downcast, gazing blankly, cheeks damp.

Artie recognized that expression. Broken, unwanted, undeserving... the look she'd had in her tired moments, when she had come into his life a year ago, the look that he'd worked endlessly, however awkwardly, to rid her of. The look that could break his heart and take his breath away, like it had just now. And even after so many years of near-isolation, he knew what it must mean. Unfortunately, what he didn't know was what to say in response. Artie heaved a sigh as he rearranged himself, trying to get a little more comfortable. He knew from experience that she'd speak when she'd absorbed enough of the loving protection he heaped on her.

"Aren't you going to ask what's wrong?" Claudia finally said in the most patently teenage tone that Artie had ever heard from her.

"I'm still suppressing the urge to wring his neck for... for breaking your heart," Artie answered truthfully.

"It's not Todd's fault I'm a train wreck, either." Artie flashed back to their chat at the diner a couple weeks ago. He'd never remembered to come back to that topic of conversation, he realized with a sigh. And he was really too frazzled to get into it tonight, too. But, he reminded himself, citing one of the few things he'd actually read in his book, it was his job to pull his act together and deal with Claudia's small but very real crisis right here, right now. He breathed for a moment before grasping her upper arm and tugging gently.

"Come here," he muttered as he encouraged her to sit up. Claudia stiffened and fought him for a second before following his lead, sitting upright, watching with guarded curiosity to see what he would do next. Artie nudged his young companion, encouraging her to sit facing him, lightly laying a hand on either of her cheeks for just a moment before he drew his hands into his lap. He closed his eyes momentarily and took one last breath, praying to anything and everything that he would find the right words.

"You are beautiful, talented, brilliant, fearless in the face of danger... amazingly dedicated and loyal. You have more integrity than almost anybody on this planet. Even when I wonder at your teenage impulsiveness, I never doubt your intent, not even for a second. You have been hurt—hey, look at me," Artie said, reaching out to rest his hands on her cheeks again to turn her face back towards him, watching Claudia's eyes dart downward to avoid his eyes, trying to escape all the words that he knew she didn't think she deserved.

After a moment, she gathered the nerve to meet his gaze again, bringing an approving smile to his face as he took a deep breath and continued, not letting go of her this time. "You have been hurt more deeply than anyone else I have ever known, and you have survived it, and become this wonderful young woman, with a quiet strength that I wish I had. You, of all people, have every right to be anxious, depressed, and to wallow in self-pity, and yet you choose to fight so hard every day to overcome hurt, distrust, fear, and that nagging expectation of abandonment, that you think I haven't noticed. You aren't the train wreck, you're the survivor who lived through it against all odds, and is now choosing each day to thrive in spite of the injuries and scars from the past." Artie continued to hold Claudia's cheeks gently after he fell silent, watching the debate raging within her eyes. Would she let herself be open and vulnerable enough to remain in this moment, or would she deflect with a joke or scathing remark?

"I wish I felt as sure of that as you seem to," she muttered. _Vulnerable honesty it is,_ Artie thought. He took a deep breath, processing the simple sentence, and the complicated feelings behind it. The only qualification he had, for dealing with this stuff, was that both he and Claudia wanted him to step into this role in her life. Right now, that felt wholly inadequate, but intellectually he knew that it was the important part, the only part that can't be learned. Artie muttered to himself as he turned loose of his young companion and leaned over the side of the bed, grasping the book that had been knocked off the nightstand earlier, tucking the bookmark approximately where it belonged, flipping through its pages before he even sat back upright.

"Okay, this says... yeah, yeah. I can do—yeah. You were right the other day, by the way; I do owe you lots of apologies. I haven't done a very good job of showing yourself to you, through my eyes... I appreciate your sarcasm and your wit, I enjoy encouraging it and playing off of it, but, but you... I'll do better at that." Artie finally looked back up, finding that Claudia had fixed him with a gaze somewhere between curiosity and stunned disbelief. _Artie had a book?_ She knew he loved a good book, but... a book about... oh dear lord. Their chat at the diner the other day... what had he done? Claudia nodded towards the book, silently asking what book he was holding. Artie responded by mumbling awkwardly as he turned it around and held it up for her to see the title: Parenting Adopted Teens. Claudia raised one eyebrow as she met his sheepish gaze, as curiosity, terror, and amusement battled within her. Curiosity won out, and she snatched the book from his hands, beginning to flip through a few pages, paying careful notice to the highlights and handwritten margin notes that Artie had been making.

"Seriously?" she commented, glancing briefly up at him. "Oh man, do you ever need help..." she muttered, leaning toward the nightstand to grab Artie's pen. With an air of confidence, she began annotating the book herself, crossing out some of Artie's notes, circling others, putting smiling and frowning faces next to the various points made in the chapter. When she handed it back, Artie flipped through the pages, surprised both at the directness of her notes, and at the fact that he'd never thought of asking her assistance in sorting these things out. In the section on dating and peer relationships, she'd taken a generic book and created a Claudia-manual.

"This is... wow, okay... wow... well..." Claudia watched Artie flounder for a moment before deciding to show a little mercy.

"Can I annotate the rest of that book?" she asked. "It'd make your life a lot easier."

"Yes, please," Artie answered with a flood of relief, handing it back to her. "In the meantime, though... I know it's only Thursday, but come here," he said, leaning back against the headboard and holding one arm open, inviting Claudia to nestle against him. She obliged, uncertain at first but quickly relaxing into his protective embrace. They sat quietly together for a few minutes before Artie dared speak, not quite believing where he was about to take the conversation.

"I know it's hard to maintain relationships as a warehouse agent... oy, do I know. One day I'll tell you some of those stories. But for today... today I just want you to know how relieved I am that you came here, to me, tonight. I screwed up the dating advice a couple weeks ago, but, but... you pretty much know all the facts, right? You've read a biology book, used Google... all that?" Claudia nodded, afraid to even make eye contact at this point. _Artie was seriously going there, again?_ "Okay... okay. I just want to tell you the part that you didn't read online."

"Artie..." she warned.

"No, Claudia, listen. You kids have access to all the facts and information you could ever want, I get that. But books, websites, whatever.. what those sources don't have is a personal interest in your well-being. This part is my job. I want you to form relationships... grow up, all that. But I also want you to be careful with your heart; it's delicate, and it's... well, it's very special to me. And if you ever—ever!-get into a bad situation or need help dealing with anything, you ask for help... I would hope to always be... be that person, but Pete and Myka, and Leena are all there for you, if you don't... if it's not something you want to talk to me about. O—okay?"

"Yeah," Claudia answered, "yeah. See, you really are doing all right at this... Dad." Artie both groaned and chuckled at that, much like he'd done at the diner when she'd first used the term "father figure" to describe his role in her life. He had once toyed with the idea of family life, of course, but he'd long ago shoved that idea aside. He had a great deal of fondness for humanity, yes, but people... well, that was another story. And yet...

"Tomorrow," he began, deflecting the fact that Claudia had stirred up quite a bit of uncertainty with that moniker, "tomorrow you can do whatever you want. Inventory can wait a little bit. Edit that book for me, work on a project you've been meaning to get to... whatever makes you feel better—without blowing up or burning down the warehouse, or, or ripping the space-time continuum, of course. And Monday we'll get back to normal, okay?" Claudia smiled shyly at Artie, appreciation plain on her face. "Good. You ready for bed yet?"

"Well, I..." Claudia began, her gaze shifting nervously around the room. Artie recognized that discomfort. Experience had taught him that on the particularly hard days, she needed just a little more companionship than she cared to let on.

"Come on," Artie answered the unspoken question, as he got up and started for the door. He breezed into her bedroom and sat in her reading chair, patiently waiting while she slipped into the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. When Claudia emerged, she was met with Artie's warm smile, and her blankets already turned down and waiting for her. He'd even unearthed Ted from his hiding place, and tucked the stuffed bear under the blankets, hidden from view so that Claudia only discovered him when she settled in. Once she was situated, Artie reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

"'Night, Artie," she said softly as he let go, turning to leave her room.

"Good night, Claudia," he replied, flicking the light off as he passed it by. He left her door open a crack, just the way she liked it this time of year, so the fresh air would circulate freely. At least, that's the story she had given when he'd asked. Privately, Artie suspected that she found it soothing to be able to see the light from the nightlight at the top of the stairs, if she woke up in the middle of the night. Swinging his own door closed behind him, Artie crawled into his own bed, not even bothering to arrange the covers before he simply stopped moving and closed his eyes right where he lay. He was too tired to care, and he needed as much rest as he could get before he could begin to make more permanent repairs to Claudia's broken heart tomorrow, he rationalized as he closed weary eyes, letting sleep overtake him.


	6. From Russia, with love, and some bruises

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, messaged, commented, favourited, and otherwise made known your enjoyment of this story. Extra-special thanks (and vanilla porter!) to KJay99, for waaaay more beta work than one chapter has any business needing! It's turned out to be such a blast working on this project with you; thank you for investing the time.

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Artie didn't move from his place at the desk when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs after dinner. He'd already sent Myka away when she had come up to talk... apologize, yell, whatever it was she'd wanted to do, after going behind his back to the regents in support of reinstating HG Wells as an agent. He'd tolerated none of it from her, and he had no intention of responding to anyone else who tried to smooth things over, either. He didn't even glance up when he heard the rather timid knock on his doorframe. Myka had left the door open when she'd stormed off, and Artie had considered getting up to close it but decided it wasn't worth the effort, between the lingering aches from his time in Russia, and the stabbing pain of being second-guessed and discounted by not only the regents but his own subordinates as well.

When the knock was followed by a very weary, very familiar sigh, he did glance briefly towards the doorway. Artie had meant it to be a token gesture, a sign that he noticed the person standing there, and didn't care. But when his mind processed the information his eyes had taken in, in that split second, he dropped his pen into his book, let it close, and turned around. Claudia simply raised one eyebrow, her hands juggling a tray with two mugs and a bowl. Friday night. Artie groaned quietly. He wasn't in the right frame of mind for this. But as he continued to stare Claudia down, he noticed the look in her eyes - defeat, on so many different levels. Without a word, Artie got up and grabbed pajamas from his dresser drawer, grabbing a cookie off the tray as he breezed into his bathroom to wash up and change. Maybe some time spent on somebody else's problems would help him gain perspective on his own. If nothing else, surely Leena's white chocolate peanut butter chip cookies would do the trick.

Claudia was perched on top of the blankets when he returned. One corner of Artie's mouth turned up in a sort-of smile at her. He really, really didn't feel up to this. Artie's back popped as he leaned against the headboard, probably stretching out for the first time all day. He grabbed his cocoa off the nightstand and simply held it in tense hands. Even the warmth of the ceramic against his aching fingers didn't feel good tonight. The only thing that would feel good was impossible, if not because of the regents' decision, then because of Artie's own code of ethics. He simply couldn't allow himself to march downstairs and wring H.G. Wells' neck right where the wolf in sheep's clothing sat, on his sofa, in his den, with his agents. Probably playing his customary game of checkers with Pete, by now, at the rate she was taking over. And she was probably beating the pants off him, too, since she didn't know to let him win every few rounds.

A sudden weight on his side shook Artie out of his angry thoughts, though the bitter aftertaste persisted. Glancing over in just a little bit of surprise, he took in the mop of red hair on his shoulder. In the short moment he'd let his anger get stirred up again, Artie had almost forgotten about Claudia's presence in his room. And he'd completely forgotten it was Friday night. With a weary sigh, Artie slid his left arm from between them and wrapped it around his young companion. He may not have felt up to dealing with her issues, but he could see plain as anything that she felt as distressed as he did, by today's turn of events.

"I don't feel safe with her around," Claudia muttered, as if Artie's gesture had been an invitation to talk. He nodded in response, simply taking in the words. He wasn't so certain he felt safe, either. But he couldn't say that to her, couldn't admit that to somebody whose safety was his responsibility.

"You can live in the loft at the warehouse," he offered. Claudia shook her head against him. Artie rolled his eyes. What was it about this new breed of young people, complaining about their problems and then rejecting perfectly valid solutions?

"She has an access code there," Claudia pointed out. _Oh yeah_... that detail had slipped his mind somehow. Artie had never known a time in which the Warehouse wasn't the most secure, comfortable place he could imagine being. But with HG having access... all that had changed today.

"I can't defy the regents quite that openly," Artie said in reply to the silent wish that hung in the air between them. The impossible limitation placed on him, the task of keeping the world safe while he had to make nice with its greatest threat, was almost intolerable to the man who valued integrity and autonomy so highly. It was his greatest regret in this moment, that he couldn't bring himself to overrule authority on this matter.

"I don't want you to," Claudia answered. "I just want to feel safe," she said as one slender hand crept up to her shoulder to rest on his hand. She glanced at him briefly, as if seeking approval, bringing a more genuine, yet still weary smile to Artie's face. He understood the words she wasn't saying. Their Friday evening chats, this time hiding within his embrace, it was her safe place to escape from the world. It boggled Artie's mind that looking out for her needs could be as simple as a shoulder to lean on for a couple of hours. Suddenly, he felt a flood of relief that he'd forced himself to put Claudia first, that he hadn't rebuffed her on account of his own issues. As usual, it hadn't demanded nearly as much of him as he'd feared... certainly not more than he had the capacity to give, even in his agitated state.

"Todd's gone," Claudia muttered, her voice flat and empty. Artie knew this story; Leena had informed him of it in between tending to his wounds, after he'd gotten home from Russia. But he let Claudia unpack her heart on her terms, simply nodding as he followed along. "He was in witness protection," she continued. "Not... not because he was part of anything bad. He was just the hapless bystander. But the Marshals... they were just a little freaked, so they moved him. I have to find him all over again." Artie nodded, then froze for a second. _Find him again? _The thousand reasons that was a bad idea, flooded his mind, but when he glanced toward his young companion, he knew there was no point in going through that lecture. To say that she was resolute was an understatement.

"Try not to... not to run afoul of too many law enforcement agencies, doing that, okay?" he advised. "Mrs. Frederic's power to make problems go away... even that has its limits." Artie glanced over at his friend again, wondering if he'd handled that advice well, and he was rewarded with her soft smile.

"I'll be careful... probably wait a while, too, for Todd's safety and all." Again, the pair fell quiet for several minutes before Claudia broke the silence with her next question. "What happened in Russia?" she asked softly, as if she were afraid of the words that had slipped from her. Artie shook his head. Of all the questions she could have asked, why that? It was the last thing he wanted to talk about, the last thing he wanted to remember... and certainly, the last thing he wanted to haunt Claudia's insecurities and nightmares. He'd known the question would come, of course, but today? After the whole disaster with the regents and newly-minted Agent Wells?

But life with Claudia never went according to his idea of convenient, so of course she would ask that question today. Artie blew out a long sigh, contemplating how much information to give, how to give her the open authenticity she craved, without scaring her. After a moment of thought, though, Artie realized the simple truth: Claudia would be frightened, and her sense of trust upended, if he held back, if he censored himself. She needed to hear the whole story... in the most delicate terms possible, of course.

"In a former life," he began, "and you have to understand, I didn't know what these artifacts were... they were just antique junk to me, at the time. But there was a time when I... I traded them, to a Soviet contact, in exchange for..." he trailed off. How could he find words to explain that he'd unknowingly traded some of the most powerful, most deadly weapons in the world, for the lives of family members? And how could he possibly justify that when, understanding the very real danger of the artifacts, even he could admit that one family, even his own, wasn't worth the cost to the rest of the world? Artie glanced at his companion, surprised to see a knowing expression on her face.

"You traded them to save political prisoners during the Cold War," Claudia supplied, "probably people you knew." She paused for a moment to let that information sink in, before continuing with a satisfied grin. "You're not the only one who can look at a few pieces of information and figure out the missing pieces, you know." Artie allowed himself a smile before he continued the very serious conversation.

"I wasn't aware of it when I left the States, but the man who was my contact, died in prison. His son... his son wanted revenge. So he killed Dickenson, he killed Sweetwood... whatever it took to get my attention. I had to go to Russia to handle it."

"You didn't get any borscht, by chance, while you were there?" Claudia asked suddenly.

"I... what? Borscht? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Yeah... I kind of figured. I asked to talk to you at one point, and Pete and Myka said you'd just gone to get some. That's when your contact's son got to you, or whatever, isn't it?"

"'Or whatever,' yeah," Artie muttered. The pain he'd endured during his captivity came flooding back to him as Claudia walked him through this part of the story, and Artie wondered if he'd be able to conceal his own distress from his apprentice. He wondered, too, if he even needed to bother. She would be aware of it either way, after all. "Sometimes the past tries to come back to haunt you," Artie continued, suddenly feeling the need to justify his having walked right into Ivan's trap, "and you have to stand up to it, face it, and overcome it. That's just a little... it can be a bit messy for Warehouse agents."

"Where were Pete and Myka when he..." she trailed off, reaching across to Artie's mug-filled hand, laying one gentle fingertip momentarily alongside the bruise on his wrist. Artie nodded slowly at the unvoiced part of her question: when Ivan had caused those twin bruises on his wrists.

"They were avoiding being killed by King Charles' croquet ball," Artie answered, shaking with an unexpected laugh at the memory of that moment. It had been deadly serious at the time, but now in retrospect, being attacked by an angry croquet ball was just a little bit funny. "I had managed to get out of the house, trying to catch up to who I thought was going to be Alexi, and instead I found his son."

"Or he found you," Claudia interjected, "judging by the handcuff bruises and knot on your forehead." Artie floundered for a moment. Of course she would figure out the clues he'd brought home on his body. But he'd hoped that, perhaps by magic, it would entirely escape her notice.

"At least he didn't leave scars," Artie groused, "unlike the _last _person who handcuffed me!" He knew he was dealing with things badly, reacting with irritation to cover over the fear that made him feel weak and powerless. He drew a calming breath, and forced himself to take a cookie while he reined himself back in.

"Yeah... sorry about that," Claudia responded, her fingertip sliding over the permanent red mark not far from the bruising. "I didn't know the cuffs would leave scars." A lightning bolt of guilt tore through Artie, for having mentioned it. He put his own partially-eaten cookie down on his knee, and took another one from the dish to press into Claudia's hands. Cookies fix problems and heal broken hearts, after all.

"It was my own fault," Artie said, trying to soothe the guilt he'd just dumped on his young companion. "If I'd been easier to get through to, you wouldn't have needed to go to that much trouble." He felt Claudia chuckle at that, a laugh so weighed-down by other worries that it was almost nothing more than a sigh.

"Quit dodging the subject," Claudia said after another moment of quiet. Artie realized suddenly that he hadn't meant to change the subject, but he had... and now he couldn't quite remember what she'd asked.

"I— what dodge? I told you what happened, that's it!" he said. Claudia simply shot a look of patently teenage frustration at him in reply. Artie took another breath to argue with her, then realized that in his zeal to protect his curious assistant from the disturbing reality of his time in Russia, he had failed to realize just how deeply the fear of abandonment continued to affect her, especially after the loss of Todd had re-opened those wounds.. In retrospect, he had probably not gone as deeply as she needed for reassurance. He grunted thoughtfully at that. "I don't... why must we go through the gory details, anyway? What more do you want?" he groused after a moment.

Claudia, who'd been gazing comfortably around the room, abruptly ditched their habit of avoiding eye contact, and scooted away from his grasp, turning to face him and fix him with a determined gaze. "Artie, quit scaring me, and just tell me what happened already. What did he do?"

Artie met her gaze, and drew in a steadying breath. This was turning out to be much harder than he'd imagined. If it had been anyone else, any other day, he could have recited the information as if he were reading it out of a file. But Claudia..? It felt just a little like those nightmares where his mind went entirely blank just as Mrs. Frederic was asking him a very important question.

"Let me think of how to say it!" he finally spat, a little more gruffly than he'd intended, so he followed it up with a gentle squeeze with the arm that was around her shoulders. In the moments of quiet that he'd bought himself, Artie contemplated why it was so hard to say those few words.

It meant admitting weakness, Artie reasoned. It meant that she would know what had happened to him, what he had been helpless to prevent... too weak to take control of the situation, without viable defense, dependent on Pete and Myka to somehow track him down and save him, his only tool being verbal negotiation with a madman he'd had a hand in creating. And then to have finally been freed from his shackles, only to see that HG Wells had been the one who found him completely at Ivan's mercy, and who saved him. After which, he'd been forced to save her life, a moral decision that he'd now come to regret.

The physical torment was one thing, but that, that insult to his pride was almost more than he could bear. And now he was going to tell Claudia all of this? She was going to freak out, probably have some kind of anxiety attack, and worse, never be able to look at him again without remembering this story, this one day when competency and authority had been forcibly ripped from his possession.

But, Artie mused, beginning to work his way through his discomfort, weakness is a part of life. Claudia might freak out, but she didn't need to be protected from the fact that life is a delicate treasure. And it was, after all, Claudia, who'd tracked him down and put both her life and Joshua's into his hands, who had placed herself under his authority at work, against his will at first. It was perhaps an understandable feeling, but it was entirely irrational to believe that she would think less of him, because of what happened in Russia. Setting aside the dueling pains of his time in Russia, and his impending weakness in Claudia's presence, Artie blinked ferociously, then reached up with his free hand to brush a sudden dampness from his eyelid. He had instinctively known what needed to be done, of course, but now he was also logically convinced of that fact.

"Ivan lured us to the meeting place, where I used to meet his father," Artie began. "He used the croquet ball to create some chaos, probably as a way to ditch Pete and Myka, so he only had to deal with me. He... he made use of a variety of artifacts he'd collected up... most of which, I'd collected up for his government, once upon a time."

"Is that how you got the split lip?" Claudia asked, her tone casual and flippant, but with a very serious undertone.

"No, that wasn't an artifact; that was just a regular closed-fisted punch," Artie groused, his free hand instinctively coming up to touch the still-healing damage to his mouth.

"Well, what... did he use that, that chunk of wood from the Titanic?" Claudia pressed.

"I told you what happened, Claudia! Are you going to systematically go through the entire list of artifacts we brought home from Russia?" Artie asked, his volume creeping up along with his irritation.

"If that's what it takes, yes!" she answered, matching his volume with an irritated tone of her own.

"All right, fine! He shackled me between two posts in an abandoned building, beat the crap out of me, and used Torquemada's chain on me and.. I don't even remember if he used the jacks, next thing I remember, that, that... _woman_, Wells showed up and he used the driftwood on her. I don't even know how she managed to shoot at the chain holding my wrist, or, or how she didn't shoot me instead! And then to add insult to injury, I had to subdue Ivan and save Wells from freezing to death. And nothing – nothing! – was getting through to him! It was like some part of his soul died with the loss of his father." By the time Artie ran out of steam, his heart was pounding, vision blurry, and his hands trembled from the sheer stress of having remembered his short time in captivity. He hadn't meant to say so much, so bluntly... or to let emotion get the better of him like that. Artie stopped, letting his head tip back against the bed's headboard, and he forced himself to draw three deep, steadying breaths.

When Artie had pulled himself back together, he realized that at least some of the shaking wasn't his own adrenaline-overloaded body. Claudia's hands trembled, even though she'd wrapped her arms around herself to suppress it. She'd pasted a blank expression on her face, but it didn't conceal the tears she refused to let fall. Artie blew out a frustrated sigh.

"You wanted to know what happened," he reminded her gently. Claudia nodded in response. Not sure what to do next, Artie simply sat quietly for a few minutes, turning his now-cold mug of cocoa around in his hands a few times. He was used to long minutes of quiet shared with his young friend; he wasn't accustomed to her staring blankly with an unfocused gaze, as if she couldn't even see him sitting there. When Artie could take it no longer, he tilted his head forward a little bit, and rested his hand on her forearm, jerking her out of whatever mental place she had gone to. He raised his eyebrow when he had her attention, a silent invitation to share what was eating at her heart.

Claudia took a couple deep breaths, as if she were trying to decide whether to let Artie in or not. After a moment, she finally spoke again. "I lost Todd, and I almost lost you." She let the deeply painful words hang between them for a minute or two before continuing. "Is that all there is to life, you finally drop your guard, let somebody in, try to trust, and then they just leave your life forever?"

"What? No—I... no, Claudia." Artie quickly set down his mug so he could reach towards her, grasping Claudia's hand gently. "You didn't lose me. Pete and Myka wouldn't have let that happen. And it sounds like you haven't lost Todd so much as you've simply got to wait for him to settle some messy things from his past."

"Let's be real here, Artie. They might kill him, and even if they don't, he can never let his guard down. He can't risk it. I said I'd find him, but I don't know how to do that without endangering his life." Claudia brushed angrily at her lash lines, much the way Artie had done earlier. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he watched her fight for every last shred of strength she could muster, even as he wished she didn't feel the need to put up a stoic front.

"Keep an eye on the Conti trial," Artie said. "When it's settled, if you're still sure about this kid, I... I'll talk to Mrs. Frederic. We are in the business of keeping secrets, after all." Artie smiled at the look of shock on his young friend's face, at that idea.

"If I'm still sure..?" Claudia asked in reply. "I mean... okay, I get it, things could change. But... you'd really do that?"

"I don't know what I would be able to do," Artie pointed out. "But I would at least ask." There was a sudden flurry of motion, and Artie closed his eyes and waited with just a little irritation, knowing exactly what was coming. A knee smacked Artie's leg, making him frown slightly as it irritated the bruise Ivan had left there, and then he felt the less-painful weight of Claudia, having turned herself to face him and then fallen against him in a sort of bearhug. Artie wondered as his arms instinctively came around her, what on earth Claudia's deal was with this whole hugging thing.

"Thank you," a small voice said near his ear, and suddenly Artie's irritation melted as he was reminded that yes, having this junior agent as part of his odd little family of colleagues was worth all of the hassle.


	7. The Trouble With Time Machines

This one's based on the episode Where and When, set after Rebecca's short-lived trip through time, but before Artie and Myka have their sweet little chat at the very end. Special thanks to Kendralynora and KJay99 for your thoughts and feedback on this chapter, and the time and effort you put into my writing. Also, thanks to my reviewers - I appreciate all of your kind words!

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Artie frowned slightly when he noticed the customary tray of goodies that Leena had prepared, and the unspoken expectation that he felt came with it. He had started this habit, of course, but today, it ruffled his feathers. She expected him to spend time with Claudia. He was still angry with her for going behind his back and using the time machine, nearly getting Pete and Myka killed, or whatever, in the process. Simply put, he didn't want to spend time connecting with his young assistant. Spend time yelling at her, maybe. Spend time highlighting the thousand reasons she shouldn't have participated in such a boneheaded scheme, sure. But spend time connecting? That was simply out of the question, tonight.

Instead, he helped with the dishes, glaring periodically at the steaming mugs of cocoa, while Leena glared periodically at him. Artie opted to tune her glares out, and for a time, that worked. He didn't want his Friday evening tradition to be mucked up by a yelling match, followed by having to ground the girl, or whatever assigned punishment flew out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. Of course Leena didn't understand this, so of course she was annoyed with him. Well, tough. She was just going to have to live with it.

"You know, Artie," Leena said when only the pots and pans were left to be washed, "your first Friday night with Claudia _was_ a punishment." That said, she dried her hands quickly and with steady skill, grabbed the tray and handed it off to the flustered Warehouse supervisor, without spilling a drop.

Artie opened his mouth to argue, then froze as he considered her meaning. Leena was right, of course. The Friday night that had created this tradition with his favourite antagonist had not exactly been the best of circumstances. He'd spent a good portion of it still quietly seething at Claudia's ill-conceived idea to fix a light bulb, an idea that ended with her being magnetized to the ceiling of the Warehouse and nearly bringing the whole building down on top of them both. But, he grudgingly allowed himself to recall, that incident had brought about a lot of growth not only in Claudia, but in her ability to trust the authority figures in her life. Not to mention the fact that the whole point was to connect, rehash the week, and discuss whatever needed to be discussed... it was, at its core, a time to clear the air. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility, to use the time to express displeasure with her behaviour.

And was he ever displeased tonight. Claudia should have refused to go along with the shenanigans, and she really should have notified him when everyone else inevitably forged ahead with or without her. There just was no way she hadn't realized one or both of those two facts. Claudia should have known to put on the brakes, to point out that none of them outranked Artie, not even the highly-respected former agent Rebecca.

Grumbling a string of words-like sounds that Leena was sure were not English, Artie nudged the kitchen door open with his foot and strode out. He paused in the den just long enough to fix Claudia with a pointed look, and nod towards the staircase, before he continued to his room. It took a moment, but while he was pulling back the bedding, he heard the sound of someone else coming up the stairs. It never ceased to amaze Artie, how much communication could be found in the way a person climbed a staircase. A person could be delicate and quiet, as if coming politely home late at night. One might thunder up the steps, skipping every other one in an almost contagious rush of energy. Or, a person could stomp at a slow, even pace meant to be as irritating as humanly possible. That seemed to be Claudia's intent tonight. Artie rolled his eyes, then took a few deep breaths, determined to not lose his temper as the stomping continued all the way into Claudia's closet. By the time she entered his room, carrying her pillow and a book, she was still stomping around but Artie was sitting against the headboard, the very picture of calm. He watched quietly as she pointedly left her cocoa on her nightstand, instead opening her book to its bookmark.

"Good book?" Artie asked after a moment. Claudia hummed in reply, a sound that could have meant yes, no, or even just plain "shut up and leave me alone". Artie studied the situation for a moment longer before reacting. When Claudia's hands were well away from the page edges, he swiftly grabbed the book, sliding it out of her reach and shutting it all at the same time.

"Hey!" Claudia cried. "I was reading that!"

"You're here to talk," Artie reminded her.

"And if I don't want to talk?" she shot back. Artie simply let out one annoyed grunt, at that idea. Whatever was bothering her was so plainly evident that he didn't even need to call her on that lie. He focused his gaze upon her with all the intensity he could muster, not even blinking, and simply waited. Claudia glared around the room for a few minutes. "Fine. You want me to talk, I'll talk. I wasn't wrong to listen to HG. None of us were, and it was your own fault that the stupid time machine broke at all!" she said, moving from talking to yelling a lot faster than Artie had expected.

"I'm in charge around here, not you, not Agent Wells, and not even Rebecca!" Artie said, nearly shouting himself.

"We did the right thing!" Claudia shot back, forcefully enough to make Artie stop. What was he doing? This wasn't productive! He shoved a cookie in his mouth, more to give them both permission to pause, than because he wanted one. As he ate it, and a second cookie, Artie turned the matter over in his mind.

Claudia was right, perhaps, on some points. Rebecca's missing time had meant that a pair of agents were destined to use the time machine, or... or something. The video they'd discovered did demonstrate that that Pete and Myka were the pair of agents in question. Of course, none of that canceled out the fact that they'd all gone behind his back, nobody had stopped him from leaving for St. Louis, or even called to fill him in, and when he did return, Claudia and Rebecca tried to divert his attention rather than fessing up to what they'd done.

"You should have come to me and had Rebecca explain. You had the... the 22 hours and 19 minutes, the note in Pete's handwriting, and the film all before I left... if you had brought... I would have listened to her," Artie finally said after a couple thoughtful minutes. "Wouldn't have liked it..." he added truthfully, almost under his breath. "Five responsible..." he muttered, wiggling his fingers as he counted, "okay, _four_ responsible adults, and HG, and not one of you had the sense to communicate!"

"Really?" came Claudia's quick retort. "You'd have really listened to her explaining why we were going to send Pete and Myka's brains to 1961, in a contraption built by HG Wells, a device that had never even been unpacked, let alone tested or evaluated for safety?" Artie merely grunted at that question. She was probably right about that, just a little bit.

"Even if you think I wouldn't, you definitely should have told me as soon as I got home, what you were doing," he said tersely.

"What, you were going to magically trust HG just because we told you? You'd have freaked! You _did_ freak, when you did find out! Even with Rebecca there!" Claudia responded loudly, her agitation escalating again.

"You _still_ should-" Artie began, then stopped when he saw his companion's shoulder twitch ever so slightly. Damn. Scared her again. Artie drew a breath, then started again, quietly. "In an ideal world, one of you should have filled me in at any – any! – point before I found the power fluctuations."

"It hasn't been 'ideal' around here since HG showed up," Claudia responded, her tone having shifted to just a bit sullen. "And Artie, it worked out just fine. What more do you want?" Artie blew out another breath. Frustration seemed to be the norm, these days. He suddenly longed for the days when the worst problem they had to deal with was neutralizing artifacts that Pete had accidentally activated. Claudia was right; nobody had felt safe contacting him because of the tension between not only him and HG, but also between him and Myka. And his rebuff, when Myka had reached out and tried to go with him to St. Louis, had only escalated that tension.

"What more do I... Claudia, I need you to trust me enough to keep me informed, no matter how not-ideal it may be around here," Artie finally said. "It's enough that neither the regents nor Myka listen to a word I say." Without bothering to face him, Claudia glared in his general direction for a few seconds before she made her next move in the conversation.

"Can I have my book back?" she asked. Artie closed his eyes momentarily as he conceded defeat. He grabbed the book and handed it back to his surly companion, quietly watching as she relocated her bookmark and continued reading as if the whole conversation had never occurred. After a few moments, she reached toward the nightstand on her side of Artie's bed and took a pencil and cocoa in her hand, juggling both items awkwardly for a second as she passed the pencil off to her right hand. She then sipped while she made notes in the margin of the text, pointedly ignoring Artie for several more minutes while he stewed. Leena had encouraged him to spend the time, but for what? An exercise in humility? In the pointless waste of time? He was about to get up and go tackle the paperwork threatening to take over his desk, when a sound stopped him. Claudia's sigh filled the room, the unmistakeable variety of sigh that meant she was trying to figure out how to say something.

Artie dropped all plans to abandon their time together, and instead put one arm awkwardly around her shoulders. He was half-expecting her to hit him and jerk away, but simple touch always had a way of reaching her heart, when he couldn't find the words she needed to hear. To his relief, instead of reacting in anger, she sagged into his touch, drawing strength from the nonverbal message of unconditional acceptance and affirmation.

"I... I was trying to figure out how to tell you when Rebecca collapsed, in the office," Claudia said after a couple of false starts. "At first I thought she was doing it to keep me from telling you. But once I realized it wasn't an act, I... I don't know, Artie. It seemed faster and easier to just keep my mouth shut, especially since I didn't want to put that stress on her, trying to talk sense into you."

Artie nodded at her words. He understood, even through his anger at how his team had handled the glass knife situation. Claudia let her head tip more fully against his shoulder, a gesture Artie recognized as part apology, part seeking encouragement. He had no words to encourage, though, after how badly the day had gone, and instead he simply squeezed a little tighter around her shoulders, reassuring her that her insecurity was not an accurate reflection of how anybody felt about her. The pencil slid into her book with a scraping sound, and its pages closed around the cylinder of wood as Claudia's hand reached across Artie, fishing for his other arm. With an aggravated chuckle, he gave in to her unspoken request, enveloping her more fully in a hug.

"I'm sorry," Claudia said softly after a minute. Artie simply nodded in reply. After a minute or two, he loosened his grip, and his young companion pulled herself back, sitting up rather than leaning on him. She picked up her book again, opening it to retrieve the pencil, and for the first time, Artie took note of the work she'd been doing.

"No, number seven is wrong, you have to use a final mem at the end of... wait..." he muttered, suddenly pulling the book out of her grasp. Artie almost laughed at himself for not noticing the very distinctive cover art before now. "You – you're learning Hebrew?" he asked, even though the answer to that question was plainly obvious.

Claudia shrugged with a shy smile. "When you read all the Hebrew stuff over the menorah last year at Hanukkah... I wanted to know what that was about."

"You can just ask, you know," Artie replied, the teasing tone having returned to his voice after their earlier argument.

"Well I know now," Claudia answered. "I googled. I just... you know..." Artie watched her get more and more sheepish-looking until it finally dawned on him, what was going on in her mind. She wanted to step into his world, to try it on and see how it fit her, so to speak.

"You want to do the prayers this year?" he asked. Claudia nodded in response. "Well, okay... but for starters, you cannot end that word with that form of that letter... final letters exist for a reason."

"What reason?" Claudia asked.

"To drive Hebrew students insane," Artie answered with mock authority, getting a giggle out of his young friend in response. "Here, let me... if you're going to learn the prayers, you might as well learn them from somebody who understands them!" he said, hijacking her independent study with a lengthy explanation of the properly-accented pronunciation of each character while Claudia watched, bemused, and reached past him to snatch a cookie off the plate by his elbow.


	8. Cocoa and Some Spying

And we begin season three with... well... more mush! Some major spoilers for the second episode Trials. Also I'm told that this season sounds like the writers took a page out of my manual. Hey guys, you really should talk to me me if you're going to do that... I have way better mush than what I have the nerve to release into the public arena! K, you know I'd be lost without you. Thanks for all you do.

* * *

"Claudia?" Artie said, gesturing with his bushy eyebrows at the tray in his hands. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to interrupt his not-so-junior agent, who was presently trading bad movie lines with the new guy. But Leena had gone all-out tonight, making the cocoa from scratch even, and he certainly wasn't going to let perfectly good junk food go to waste. Besides, he was pretty sure they needed to have a chat after the judgement error he'd made in following her to Boston.

Claudia glanced up at Artie, then back to Steve Jinks, who glanced toward Artie and then looked at her, curious.

"I gotta go, Artie has this tradition..." she explained, rolling her eyes.

"You don't have to," Artie said, feeling like he was interrupting something important.

"No, no, far be it from me to disrupt tradition," Claudia groused as she disentangled herself from her spot, perched backward in a chair. Steve Jinks, assessing the situation, smiled warmly at Artie, wondering if the supervisor was picking up his silent message - Claudia's annoyance was an act because she felt just slightly uncool about the fact that she was eager to follow Artie.

Claudia carried on the show of being inconvenienced until she made it far enough up the stairs that the new guy couldn't see, before the smile crept over her face. She made no effort to hide it from Artie, who caught it when he turned toward the bedroom and double-checked that she was following.

"Be right there," she muttered as she slid into her own bedroom to get ready for bed before she ventured the last few feet down the hall to the sanctuary that Artie had created for her, coming up on two years ago now. Claudia suppressed a laugh when she heard a thump and a grumble coming from the bathroom. _Artie probably got his feet caught up in his pajama pants again,_ she thought to herself as she climbed up on the bed and waited. "Cocoa looks different tonight," Claudia said, once Artie entered the room.

"Leena made it from scratch," Artie muttered. "Oww," he murmured as he sat down. "Man, I really hit that Owen guy hard," he said, rubbing his knee gingerly. Claudia laughed unexpectedly at that. "I'm... I'm sorry I upset you when I... you know."

"What, you mean when you spied on me me and tried to intervene when things went pear-shaped?" Claudia asked. For a second, she seemed upset, but Artie relaxed when he caught the twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes," he answered. "It was a little... a little hard to talk about it with that new guy constantly popping into the conversation."

"Yeah, I've got to work with him on that. I've never met somebody so incredibly bad at eavesdropping as Jinksie is!" Claudia and Artie both chuckled at that.

"He's pretty bad, yes. And I know he already told you, but... but I was being completely honest with you that I followed you because I wanted to watch, not because I ever doubted your ability. I haven't doubted that since... well, ever, really. Doubted your maturity at times, but never your ability." Claudia tried to suppress her response to Artie's words, but she couldn't help beaming just a little, amongst the sheepish, almost embarrassed feeling she had at hearing his opinion of her. Making Artie proud of her had been her life's goal for the past couple years, and even though she'd found it easy to share her motives and insecurities with the new guy, it wasn't so easy to admit it to the target of her familial affection.

"Thanks," Claudia muttered, totally unsure of how to react to Artie's words.

"I'm sorry, also, that I, I intervened," he continued, wrapping his arm around his young companion. "I should have just watched and let... but it wasn't like I had a lot of time to decide how to react. And I wanted to stack the deck in your favor. It wasn't until later that I realized I should have let it play out naturally."

"No, no, I'm glad you did," Claudia answered. "It actually made it easier to find him after he saw the artifact in action. You... you really didn't go back to spying on me after you left, did you?" Claudia asked. She'd been itching to know, but she'd refused to waste time looking for signs of Artie's continued supervision. If he were watching, she wanted him to see her doing a good job, after all, not being paranoid about his potential presence. Artie shook his head in reply.

"No, you were genuinely on your own. In fact, I've been wondering how the rest of the mission went." Claudia perked up at that.

"Well, world's-worst-spy, once you proved to him that the knife worked, it turns out he paid a little visit to his son, who had terminal cancer." Claudia watched as the light of realization came across Artie's face.

"He saved... he didn't want to give disease to others?" the old man asked. Claudia shook her head with a grin. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I tried to help, and only caused you to lose him, then," Artie said after a moment of thought.

"Yep. Because you couldn't stand the thought of me having to work for my success, the guy's grandson won't have to grow up without a father." Artie hummed in thought as he sipped his cocoa.

"Sounds like one of the most rewarding missions I've ever had the privilege of sending a team on," he commented after a moment's thought. Claudia giggled, just a tad uncertain how to take such a compliment, and leaned a little closer to her mentor, who took the opportunity to reward her hard work with a snug, supportive hug and a quick nuzzle against her hair that sort of approximated a fatherly kiss. "So," Artie continued after disengaging somewhat. "What do you think of the new guy?"

Claudia's eyes lit up at the question and she launched into her assessment of Steve Jinks, on a personal and professional level, as she reached for one of Leena's cookies.


End file.
